Five Four Three Two One
by rookieD
Summary: (One-shots x 15). A sneaky glimpse into the befores and/or afters of some of the memorable or could/should have been memorable moments of Sam/Andy Season 3. Starts off with a slice of heaven from episode 7. Also includes scenes from episodes 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 & 6, as well as one between 9/10. Come on people, we just didn't see enough of them on our screens!
1. Seven Heaven

A/N: I originally wrote this – way back when - to test out my capacity to write M (or write at all, actually). It's had a couple of minor tweaks since, but I figured I'd pop it up now. It's a one shot that takes place 3.7 – starting in the hours before we see Andy belt out her 'holy moly,' and Sam bolt out the door. I refuse to believe that Sam and Andy did not have some spectacular times (including emotionally intimate ones) while they were together – she told him she loved him ffs. Show just did a shitty job of giving them quality air-time!

Note: The TV script is used pretty much verbatim when that part of the action does take place.

**Warning:** If R ratings existed on this site, it would probably come in at an X or R18+? Explicit language and sex etc etc.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue.**

* * *

Andy lay back - clutching the top sheet to her chest, staring at the centre point of her light fixture- thinking (ironically?):_ I have seeeeeeeeen the light._

Panting softly, she dared not move her hands.

(The last time she had attempted anything with them - bar the clutching of sheets - Sam had stopped).

Sam had stopped doing….well, Sam had stopped doing something quite frankly that no one before had ever bothered to…properly… _start_ with her.

(It's not that Andy's not modern, okay. Andy is modern – she's proven that. Especially to Sam.

A _lot._

And it's not that the people that Andy has been…um…'intimate' with… are not modern. For God's sake, even Luke had his kinks.

It's just that they, apparently, are not as modern as Sam is).

Anyway, anyway, now is not the time to be thinking. Now is the time to…

_OhOhOh_

Now is the time to go with the flow. Feel all the feelings.

_OhOhOooooooh!_

(The first time Sam went down on her – shortly after he'd pulled her boy-shorts off way back at the cover apartment of impending doom – Andy had already been primed and ready to bolt.

_Der-Hello: two plus years of regular and highly inappropriate thoughts, including daydreams that insinuated precisely where she wanted her TO to put his mouth._)

Whatever, whatever. Back then it was about them both quenching a desperate want and need – putting fantasy into practice and scoping one another out.

Since then it has become quite obvious. They are absurdly compatible when it comes to sex, and one of the things that makes this so… is this little piece of math:

They both like to get a little…_mouthy_.

Things don't get much more brain-numbingly simple than that. Still…

Andy was never so presumptuous to assume that Sam's mouth alone would be capable of _this._

_Seriously. _

Like, this is one wake up call that Andy is happy to lay back and take any day of her life.

It all started pretty innocently, really. Although, that said: Sam really is a morning person – in more ways than one.

….

Some three hours earlier than this moment, Andy woke up to Sam hard against her thigh. Call it Pavlovian response or what have you, but the reaction goes both ways: Sam's hard, she's wet. She's wet, Sam's hard. Some beautiful synchronicity that probably happens despite (or because of), how different they are.

Andy vaguely recalls letting out a loud sigh as she opened her eyes – checking in that this wasn't one of the wet dreams she has on the nights they're not staying together (what's that saying? "The more you get it…")

And. Nope, nope. A good hard reality check was what she found herself excited about being up against on this particular wake-up.

Sam had obviously anticipated this sequence of Andy-waking-events – leaned himself into her all ready for business and kissing away her smile.

"Hey, beautiful," he'd murmered on her lips. So fucking quiet he probably didn't want her to hear. But she'd heard it, alright – she keeps her ears perked right the heck up to catch anything that might ever accidentally fall out of his mouth.

(Four nights ago they were at his place after a really late and crappy shift that almost got her another bullet to the vest – He thought she'd fallen asleep with her head in his lap in the middle of some trashy reality tv show. She had. But she was in and out of it with the touch of his hand on her head, heard him whisper quietly in an ad break "fuck, Andy - you really scare the shit out of me." She didn't confront him about it, just went back to sleep and let him carry her to bed).

Anyway, anyway – back to this morning - he'd had his nose on hers, and his lips moving in a way that she'd found it excruciatingly difficult to breathe.

She'd mustered up the strength to grin again at some point though, throwing a leg over and arching into him to let it be known: Andy McNally was indeed a most (embarrassingly desperate) willing participant of some morning sex.

Sam however, had other (albeit similar) ideas. Bearing his hips down on top of hers, he hauled her arms above her head, getting all bossy with a pinch to her nipple and "don't move, or else."

_Well. _

Andy has let Sam do a LOT of things to her this past few months, but something about the way he moved down over her gave this one away. Then again, it could be the way he said: "let me" as he bit hard on one very naked hip.

(Two nights ago over cheese and wine, Traci and Andy had a classy discussion about oral sex. Prompted by some Cosmo quiz, Andy learned that Traci really, really liked getting off with nothing but mouth. Andy told Traci that she'd never tipped over the edge that particular way…without some other…_assistance._

She mentioned this to Sam too. It popped right on out of her mouth last night - between forkfuls of spaghetti at the ma and pa joint down the road. He'd had his hand on her knee under the table, squeezed it once before he picked up his napkin and wiped at his mouth. He'd kept his eyes on her face the whole damn time, the heated stare turning up to about 12 out of 10. It was Andy that had thrown her hand in the air to ask for the bill).

So, here they are, Andy's gauntlet thrown…and Sam's mouth moving down, down, down.

Andy is well and truly convinced that Sam has perfect combination of facial genetics on his side: cleft chin; full, firm lips; long, malleable tongue…

And, seriously. The guy has stamina. When they started this adventure, Andy was ready to be pleasantly surprised, like, once. Happily report back to Traci that Sam truly was a keeper… and that maybe Jerry could hit him up for some tips next time they were in the ring.

….

Where things stand now? Sam's been under the sheets for _a while_, has had Andy come on his mouth three times, and back on the _edge_ more times than she cares to count.

(Every time after, she's pulled at his shoulders – tried to drop him the hint that she's ready to make _him_ feel good too. Sam's just swatted her hands away, mumbled "just you").

But….

Now, as the sun beats a path through her window, Andy realises she's starting to tense (morning: a reminder that the 'Sam-staying-with-Andy-clock' could be running out. She kind of gets it, she does – his need to try keep drawing some lines. It's just…now she's seen a couple of other sides of him…she wants the rest).

She forces herself to relax – wait for the wave of fogged up feelings that will sprint through her brain this time around….

It turns out she doesn't have to wait too long – she feels Sam on approach again.

(Each time has been a little different, but the same common themes have occurred:

Sam's mouth, hot and open, moves across and down her abs, planting some stupidly delicate kisses from hipbone to hairline. She feels the goose bumps before they arrive, watches him watch her nipples pebble up before his head ducks back down.

His nose tip follows the wake of his chin – tongue peeking out as he edges at the top of her, in time to lick one broad stripe _down_. It's a different sensation when it's the back of his tongue – slippery and smooth…and about a thousand degrees hot. Andy's immediate reflex is a soft moan that gets stuck in the back of her throat.

He teases her clit with a simple, singular circle as her hips fly up. He steadies her in that position, firm and warm hands on her hips. Then his face pushes down…further.

Andy reaches for his hair. Sam pauses, waits for her to put her arms back up.

His hands go light on her legs then, slowly edging their way to the curve of her ass, before he pulls her all the way apart to let himself in.

As he pushes his tongue inside her gently, Andy releases her breath with what she's pretty sure is the worlds loudest sigh.

And then?

_Things_ get a little hard to describe.

If she had to cut to the chase though… she would probably try describe the fact that her brain near blanks out as she let's herself be fucked by his face.

(It's her g-spot he's aiming for, but as with everything Sam, there's always more to it than that. He seems hell bent and determined to prove, with good scientific evidence that Andy's g-spot_ can_ indeed be reached by tongue – and tongue alone).

Despite the fact that he's now avoiding her clit like it's the Black Plague – Andy is feeling beyond existentially good. Between his lips, on, um, hers, and his cheeks, chin, and nose, hitting their own pressure points, he's giving her some warm, liquid, fuzzy feelings…. Again…that she wants to exist with for at least the next (oh, say…80 years).

He stays holding her steady – his tongue rolling and nudging at every part of her inside. Now and then he pulls out just a tiny little bit; enough to move his lips into the shape of a kiss. It makes Andy delirious – her brain filled with colour and light. She's not sure if she makes any noise, the pressure in her ears is too extreme. She knows her mouth is open though, thinks it's her lifeline – the only way any air is getting in...or out.

As she reaches the edge it's his name that fills her brain. _SamSamSam _She wants to come and scream - but wants to hold on to the moment in equal amounts.

It's only when Sam pulls his tongue out and scratches at her thighs, that the harsh reality of life hits Andy. He wants her to come _now_, even whispers it with his mouth still against her: "c'mon, pretty girl. Do it again".

And he has impeccable timing in this regard, he really does. It's like he knows when awareness has hit her… because just as soon as his tongue left her clenching at air, he's opened her up further to push it hard and rough - and all the way back in (his aim crack-shot perfect) as Andy feels the orgasm begin.

She holds tight to both ends of her sheets with her hands and toes, lets herself lose control as she free-falls like a champion…right on over the edge….finally hears herself scream.

…

Sam keeps his mouth right there – giving her a super soft landing before he gently shakes his head to wring the last of her out. Kisses on to her stickiness quietly before he mumbles something else into her skin.

This fourth time she hasn't even come quite as hard as the first three, but the after-glow sensation itself lasts just as long….

"Oh…my…God. Sam," she looks down as he pops his head up.

"You never know 'til you try". He lifts an eyebrow, giving her a look that suggests maybe sometime they should try some other things.

_YesYesYes_ Andy thinks. (She really really really wants them to reveal anything and everything to one another: right here, right now. Sure, sure the mystery is a part of the attraction – but she's felt overwhelmingly greedy for him since before they were apart).

"Holy… moly," she sighs, feeling every bit as capable, beautiful, and smart, as Sam has often said he thinks she is. She thinks that of him too – rolls her eyes at the realisation of just how fucking sexy he really is.

"Holy moly? Is that the best you got? Moly's not even a word." He's humouring her now, a thin disguise to the fact that he's about to leave her in this state.

"Yeah. Well, it is to me". She watches him closely as he jumps further into his routine. Thinks about his cynicism and guardedness, but beyond that thinks of how….lovely he is.

"Okay, then. I'll take it". He leans in to kiss her, her face in his hands.

(She loves the way he kisses her…feels her head spin as she tastes herself – and what he did to her - in this particular kiss).

Her heart feels like it's about to explode with the heat – suddenly thinks desperately about how she might keep him here. (Decides to give it a shot). "C'mon. One more time….One more".

He gives her a look…like….maybe he could be convinced. And then – as though on cue – his fucking phone rings. She rolls her eyes like a 5 year old that's about to have their favourite toy taken away – gives him a pout.

She keeps a hold of his hand as he speaks to whoever is at the other end. "Yeah, yeah. I'll be there. Bye".

(She remembers now it's Jerry – Sam forewarned her last night about this. She scowled at him then too, he just rolled his eyes back).

He leans in to kiss her "gotta go".

"You always gotta go," Andy sighs – taking as many more kisses as she can get for the road.

(That's not entirely true – they've stayed in one another's back pockets on more than one weekend. Still – she wants him to take her to work. Wants them to walk into the station hand in hand. Wants him to rub her back as she walks out of Parade).

He kisses her some more, telling her he'll see her at work.

(She knows keeping things on the down-low at work was an idea of them both – knows their feelings on the job once upon a time almost got them killed…but…she just… she really just wants_ more_ of him).

She lays there – propped up on an elbow to watch him finish getting dressed. Feels her heart race for him – even as obvious as it is that he's about to bolt out the door.

She thinks of everything they've been through, and what more's to come.

She realises – very deeply – that she loves him, "Sam…,"

(She really cannot… imagine her life without him in it…)

"What?" But the way he's looking at her, looks like any deep feelings Andy might level at him could explode his head.

Andy chews her bottom lip to stop herself from telling him that she loves him. (Thinks it might sound a little trite and shallow in this moment anyway: needy, clingy girlfriend that throws about statements to make him prove…something).

"Nothing". She says with a secret smile. "I'll see you at work".

And then – just like that – he's gone.

She_ knows_ she does (love him) though. Just – really does _know._

Decides maybe, possibly… probably, she'll let him know soon.

* * *

_A/N: If anyone is interested, I'm up for prompts to start/finish Sam/Andy scenes that occurred in other episodes (of Season 3). Just write it in a review along with; Episode number, a brief description of the scene that we see, whether you want a Sam or Andy POV, and whether you want to see what happened before or after the scene that actually played out. Doesn't have to be M – but let me know if you want it to head that way!_

_I can't guarantee how quickly I'll write, but I will do it asap when inspiration strikes (May need to watch the episode again)! I will be posting scenes as chapters in this story. So, you know... feel free to stay tuned!_


	2. The One

A/N: _**Post 3.01 - a tag to the 'redux' first kiss.**_ This is dedicated to the very awesome Enits3 ... who actually prompted this with a preference for Sam's POV. But! I kind of already had a part of this written ...so, you know - consider this an IOU (A morning after from Sam's POV will be coming your way sometime soon :)

To everyone else: thanks so much for your awesome reviews (and prompts). Consider your challenges accepted - I will be getting onto them stat!

pps - If you're reading 8 Days of Boo, the next chapter is well underway - just ironing a few issues out (sometimes I get into arguments with Sam's head. LOL).

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue.**

* * *

_God._

Andy wonders whether this is what their first kiss would've been like if they were normal. If they had a normal first kiss, like normal people, in a normal situation – way back when.

(She can't imagine that would've been the case. True, the blackout kiss may have been induced by all kinds of inappropriateness, but she's is completely and utterly positive that any _other _first kiss they would've shared in any universe would've been…just as desperate…just as heated…as the blackout kiss…because that is who _they_ are).

This is kind of awkward, truth be told. Her head's at an uncomfortable angle, their mouths are only just managing to catch.

And, Andy realizes… he's being very, _very_ careful with her.

The kiss is so light she can barely feel his tongue. (Now and then she tries to lick in further – but, Sam – he just pulls back enough so as not to let her – every goddamn time).

He's not even touching her.

_God._

(Any other time he's kissed her, his hands have been _everywhere_ –

There hasn't been a day in recent history that Andy hasn't relived the first few times he fucked her, the way he carried and lifted her playing on rote in her head -

Having an oar in her hands was downright dangerous at times).

She shoves her chest at him a little, _knows_ he 'normally' likes that; goes to turn her body toward him – swing a leg over perhaps. He's having none of it though - finally does use his hands: to hold her at bay.

_God._

Andy panics a bit - thinks about how he might have spent these past months getting _over_ her. She'd taken it for granted that he'd be ready, willing, and waiting for when she got back. Assumed he missed her _too_ – Every. Single. Day.

She pulls away, out of breath. Not because of the kiss – just… yeah. She's freaking the hell out. She really cannot handle the thought of him not wanting her…not wanting this.

(Andy's spent the last 3 months imagining every conceivable way this could go down - and this? This is not one of the ways she imagined it would go. When she saw him waiting for her at the airport her heart had practically coded out. She'd sent him a quick text… but really hadn't expected him to be there….

She'd thought about launching herself from the escalator – but, well the sunglasses made her second-guess…. Figured she'd take care of her own ego: let him make the first move -

Andy admits to feeling a little dumbstruck when he didn't hoist her up, take her into the toilet stalls and have his way with her…even if he was in uniform).

They sit still and quiet now for another 2 minutes, eyes firmly planted on one another's mouths.

She desperately wants for him to say something. Anything. And if he doesn't say anything, she wants him to freaking _do_ something.

"Sam…" she starts, not sure of what she'll say next.

But he puts a thumb to her bottom lip quieting her, runs it slowly all the way until it hits her cheek.

Finally, finally he gets both hands on her face. They're both still at a shitty angle, but he's moved enough to lean toward her properly and kiss into her mouth.

Well. It's possible -

This kiss is just edging toward being a little more…them.

His mouth is hot and wet - he tastes like – like, scotch and Sam. She wonders whether he might've stopped somewhere for some dutch courage before deciding to come here.

The kiss is deep but soft, so …. so insanely _soft_ – Andy conjures up images of marshmallows and fire.

(It's not that they have never done gentle – Sam is… surprisingly gentle… it's just that it's normally mixed with this hard edge too -

Andy is really, really angling for that edge).

Andy moans into his mouth as he puts a hand in her hair, takes her deeper still.

She's practically seeing stars by the time he pulls away – keeps her eyes closed even as she hears him clear his throat and put his mouth to her neck. She feels the vibration of his words "good to have you back, McNally". He kisses at the spot, sucks a little too - eventually brings his face back up to hers.

_Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm_ is pretty much all Andy can do. (She truly, truly did miss him a ridiculous amount). She's still got her eyes closed when she feels him square her face –bumps his nose to hers.

She opens her eyes to see him watching her intently, gives him a slow, easy grin and lifts her hand to stroke at his cheek - feels a tiny frown come to her face as her fingers roll over a faint Brennan scar.

He pulls away from her a bit – imperceptibly, but enough for Andy's heart to skip a beat. "You – um – you want a drink, McNally?"

Oh, for goodness sake…. she really is a terrible host.

Andy jumps up from the couch in one fluid motion – Sam's hands left mid air. "Yeah. Sure. Yeah. Um, I don't have much here – except for this bottle of wine I started before you were here". She holds the bottle up to him, swishes it around a bit – _see, here_.

"Okay. Okay" Sam puts his hands back up. "You…ah, you eaten yet?" He sounds kind of nervous, kind of like he's trying to think of ways to ask her out on a ….

_A date? A date, Sam Swarek? Yeah. No. Some other time, is what Andy is thinking. Tonight, she just wants to…_

"Oh. Um. Yeah. Pizza. Earlier. But. I…I can get you some?". Andy really wants to smack her own head. _It's just Sam. _

_ Shit. _

_It's Sam. _

She fumbles around in the kitchen looking for plates and glasses and what not…anything to keep her shaking hands busy while she unscrambles her brain.

He's up off the couch then, a series of steady strides more like the Swarek she knows. "It's okay. It's okay, Andy. I was just…checking in". He's got half a smile on his face now, ducks his head to get eye contact with her, prizes the plate from her fingers – puts it calmly on the bench.

They stand there, hand in hand for a few seconds while Andy regains some breath. She bites her lip as he keeps looking at her; starts a smile of her own. She plunges her face into his chest eventually, laughing at them both.

Sam puts his arms around her – rubs up and down her back. "You wanna show me a slide show from your holiday, McNally? Show me what I was missing… you know, that sort of thing?"

He's being incredibly…um…sweet. He really, really is. She realizes he's _possibly_ thinking she really does want some 'proper' sort of start. Andy trips over her sensibilities though, just can't help but shoot from the mouth. Tells him earnestly with one eyebrow arched high:

"Oh. I'll _show_ you".

He laughs a bit at her, his own eyebrows raised – then pulls her hand up to plants a kiss on it, a blushy cute look on his face as he shakes his head.

(The handholding wasn't just a JD thing. The night he asked her if she wanted to try be normal together he held her hand the whole drive back to his place – he didn't let go until the next morning until she told him she had to go sort her shit and that she'd see him soon.

She, uh – she maybe should have talked to him then about the reasons she was about to skip town).

"I mean. Ugh. You _know_ what I mean". She looks down at their laced hands – suddenly remembers that last time she saw him he had a brace on his wrist.

Andy feels mortified: this whole day, she hasn't even asked how he is.

Whatever the look on her face, Sam spots it. "Hey, Andy, look at me".

She realizes she's been staring at his wrist for a while now, images of his bruises flashing through her brain.

Andy looks up at him, some tears popping in her eyes. "You okay?" She can barely muster it up as a whisper, still – it's the best she can do.

Sam doesn't answer her with words; he kisses her instead.

This time Andy barely keeps up. She knows they should probably actually talk – knows she should get the rational part of her brain back online – but he's got his hands _everywhere_ now. And whenever that's happened before? Andy's brain's near spun out. Things don't seem like they may go any different now.

She feels her knees practically buckle as his hands slide up her sides. They're inside her tank top, warm and tender - and rough.

He stops kissing her face long enough to get the fabric over her head, his hands catching at her hips as she feels herself sway.

He lifts her then – gets her legs hooked good and solid around his own hips. He's holding under her backside, hoisting her as far up as he can. His quiet murmur "yep. M'okay" is hot and breathy into her collarbone…and followed up by a bite.

Andy hisses. "_Shit_. Sam". It stung a bit – a wicked combination of pleasure and pain. In that moment, Andy wants him to mark every part of her up the same way. She wants him to let him show her that he missed her…let him show her that she hurt him when she didn't stay.

It's a fast and furious walk – him traveling her backwards - to the nearest wall. Andy is trying to get at his face, as best as she can, holds on tight with her fingers in his hair. She clamps her hips tighter, bracing herself - ready for the impact.

He pulls them up short… but only just. Her shoulder blades still thud hard against the wall.

It's just as well her legs have got a tight grip, because after a second Sam leans his whole torso back _away_ from her. Her hands slip down to his shoulders, but the distance between them means her arms are stretched all the way out.

_God._

Andy watches about a billion expressions cross over his face. She'd ask him what the hell they all mean, but to this point she hasn't even managed a breath. Also: she doesn't want him to lose momentum. Whatever this is here: it is turning Andy right the hell_ on_ – everything about his body suggests that all those emotions he bottles up inside are about to come on out.

He keeps them in the same position for the longest of times. He's looking her face and top half over intently – maybe checking for any change that he's missed since she went away.

Andy does her best to roll her hips up and into him after a while – she just really feels if he doesn't move soon at least one part of her will implode. So…She makes another play; bites her lip and whimpers at him. "Really, really missed you," she says – her eyes fluttering closed and head thudding back.

She keeps her eyes closed when she feels his hand on her neck. His thumb goes to a pulse point – then all his fingers _squeeze_. It's making Andy's heart trip a bit – this surreal sensation: her with the power - - - him with the control.

(Back in the cover apartment the second time around - - there was a _lot_ of experimentation involving their necks).

Andy swallows thinking of that, tries to remember now about how to breathe.

She opens her eyes to watch his hand glide over her front… it goes slow, slow, slow, all the way down the center.

He stops first at her bra, keeps his fingertips in one cup as he reaches around with his other hand to undo the clasp at the back. He moves the straps off her shoulders with the same hand, let's the thing fall between where they're joined up.

The hand on her breast then keeps moving down. She's sweaty and slippery in the middle (wants to take his shirt off so she can see if he is too…she just can't reach the way she needs to – decides with the vertigo she's feeling that it's probably safer to keep her hands firm on his shoulders instead).

He flips his hand around her center – let's his knuckles skim at her abs.

(Andy swears to God – this whole time he hasn't taken his eyes off her face – is pretty sure he's taking satisfaction in how early on her pupils were completely blown).

Andy thrusts at him again as his fingers reach the top of her pajama bottom band. "_Sam…"_

It's begging – and she knows it. But she's decided that she needs him inside of her right the fuck _now._

He gets two fingers from his free hand into her mouth "shhhh". But sucking on him that way only makes her desperation worse.

She squeezes her eyes shut again – cannot, not, not handle watching as his hand slips its way under her pajama pants.

He pauses with his knuckles at the top of the elastic of her panties – her whole body _shakes._

"Look at me, Andy." His voice is quiet, but there's something…desperate…there too. "Andy" he breathes out. "Missed you too".

Andy bites into his fingers, finally dares to have a look – first into his eyes, then _down_.

His fingers run over the outside first – all the way over and under toward Andy's ass. The visual of half of his arm under a protective layer on her is making her stomach flip – she figures it has something to do with not knowing what might come next.

She sucks hard – trying to take a breath in as she feels one single finger slide its way under the elastic and parallel. It's his index she realizes – and Andy thinks it could well be some type of magic wand.

He's merely petting at her with it – slow, gentle strokes on the outside that every now and then tease at her clit. With every stroke over - she feels herself swell up.

Then. Just as slowly, he threads another finger in. _PetPetPet._ As it joins its partner, she squirms a bit, thinks she could be starting to sound like a porn star–

The tease is _insane._

Andy feels well and truly helpless by now – just liquid and bone. She takes a shaky hand off his shoulder, trusting with everything that his legs have got enough strength to hold them both up.

She gets her hand to his mouth too, pushing two fingers in – gives him back some of his own schtick.

This time it's Sam that closes his eyes – but only for a beat. He pops them open again as he rolls his tongue to lick at her – then gives her some smirk as he traces excruciatingly slow circles hard on her clit.

He's putting enough pressure on her that if she were to let him do it for the next 20 minutes, she'd finally come – but the problem is that the rest of her just wants to be fucked.

She's bucking into him to at least make it harder, not such a tease. But the ridiculous noises that are coming out of her mouth just serve to get what looks like awe on his face. Then he's got an expression that looks like he's set a challenge to himself to get her to make more.

Finally, finally, finally, she bites at him hard until he fucks her with one…then two fingers _in._

Andy's hips jerk up with the friction – then shoot with some hard thrust back down. She's pretty ineffective with the movement though, the position isn't quite right –

She needs him to cup his whole hand as well.

He groans hard on her fingers, somehow manages to tell her "wait…"

But Andy is done waiting – she's waited for this for three damn months. (And, yeah sure. Okay, she chose to handle things that way. _ButButBut…God._ Every morning she woke up – and she wanted him there – and she wanted him there when she couldn't get to sleep – and she wanted…)

Sometime in the past 10 seconds, Sam's pulled his hands out of her pants and mouth – has yanked her bottoms down far enough to get her all exposed.

His chest is about 60 degrees closer as well – his face dangerously close to hers. She yanks her fingers from his mouth now, gets her hands on the hem of his shirt and _pulls_.

(She has a thing for their chests together – likes the way his hair tickles her, loves how their heartbeats are weirdly in synch).

She gets him close again – her arms tight around his neck - gets her mouth to his and kisses hard, tells him right into it: "Please, Sam. Please".

Somehow they manage to get into the bedroom, their clothes tangled and pretty much tripping them up. He gets her on the bed gently though – even manages to land her with a fucking pillow under her head.

He hovers over her, gently peeling her pants the rest of the way down. He gets his own belt and jeans off, both of them finally down to breathing hard and naked – Andy feeling some kind of delayed shock that he's finally in the same room.

Sam gets himself between her legs, moves a hand up and down her side. Andy tilts her hips up to him, pulls at his wrist. He looks like he's about to make a joke, but thinks better of it. Instead, he shakes his wrist, telling her "for you…anything".

"I…" Andy's brain seriously just hasn't had enough oxygen tonight –(it's his tone: she doesn't know if he's talking about the sex, or…)

She can't finish the thought though, because Sam now seems to have some additional ideas. With one arm across her shoulders, and the other on her lower back, he's scooped her up until she's on her knees- and face-to-face with him.

He kisses her on the ear, murmurs "work with me, McNally…" as he puts her hands back on his shoulders and guides her legs apart. He squats down on to his haunches – his feet tucked right in.

Andy figures out his lead, moves so that her thighs are either side of his – realizes she's dripping on him, realizes how ridiculously wet she has been for the longest of times.

Sam puts a hand in her hair again – like he's trying not to put it somewhere else – gives her some goosebumps instead as he gently sweeps it out of her face.

He uses his other hand to line them up. Andy blinks a few times at how hard he is – she opens her mouth as she feels the head of his cock tip the tiniest way in.

Andy closes her eyes as his hand goes to the back of her skull.

"Beautiful – beautiful girl" he murmurs as Andy sighs - and sinks all the way down.

They haven't been in this position before – actually, Andy thinks for her it's a first. And it all… it all _feels_ kind of… new.

(Nothing to do with _not_ wanting to work her way through the Karma Sutra – it's just that … well, Andy doesn't know why, really).

It feels incredible though – like – well – like neither of them are on _top_. But it gets him so, so deep – and she can feel every single bit of every single inch.

He lets her set the pace, his handles careful and light on her – every now and then just helping her out.

This angle…this angle hits her well – she could fuck him like this for hours and just watch his face. It's like some sort of gentle physical love that's moving inside of her, that every now and then – is reaching out for more. The look on his face is killing her, she tries to open her mouth to let him know she wants all of him, but no way in the world will any words come on out.

After a while he puts his forehead on her shoulder, gets his hands on either side of her thighs to squeeze them both _in_.

Andy's mouth goes bone dry, her eyes saucer wide. She's clenched hard as a reflex too – she feels heartbreakingly full.

"Stay" he says as he fucks her gently like that. "Stay". His voice is strained, but there's still a whole lot of control.

It gets too much for Andy after a while – too much in the sense that she wants to fucking scream and sob and tell him every freaking thing. "Sam, I…."

"Stay." He gets his mouth to her this time as he says it – rocks into her deeper and harder, as he puts a hand between them, rubs gently in time on her clit.

She comes hard on him like that, whimpering – telling him over and over again how good it is.

She feels it like shockwaves when he comes shortly after – it practically sends her right back on over the edge.

He's managed to hold them both upright – but only just.

When she whispers in his ear about how much she loves to be fucked by him, they both topple over – still joined - toward the edge of the bed.

She lands on top of him, all sweaty and soft. She hides her head in his neck – immediately feels his arms come back up.

They lay there in the dark - in silence - just breathing. Slowly Sam rolls her to his side and tucks her in. He kisses her on the forehead. Pauses it there…before he says too, too quietly.. "McNally…."

Andy tilts her face up and kisses his cheek softly, drops her voice to softer and quieter still: "Night, Sam".

He strokes at her arm – feather-light.

Yeah. Andy's had enough of waiting.

She never wants him to have to wait either …ever again.


	3. Four-play on Ice

A/N. This little ditty is for Sunkiss66 who gave me that fabulous reminder re Girls Night Out. Apologies it doesn't go in quite the direction you asked. Couldn't help myself really, I started writing and all these feelings and what-not just popped on out. I will totally make it up to you with your other prompt sometime soon though! Ooh - and there's another 3.4 prompt for the end of that episode, so...you know...

Anyway, here 'tis. This takes place the night/early morning **3.4** when the girls are actually out and about. (Obviously by the time Sam actually does see Andy, she's very testy herself...;)

Annnnnndddd... Thanks so much again to everyone for your lovely and kind reviews. You really all are: the very, very best!

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue**

* * *

_I'm drunk_ the text says.

Then thirty seconds later: _and horny_

And yet another before Sam gets the chance to reply - - _babe. LOL ;) xxxx _

(Every now and then she calls him 'babe'. It reminds him of back at the cover apartment with Brennan. Sam doesn't know if he likes it or not. He's pretty sure Andy knows that too).

He's got his finger hovering over speed dial, wondering whether or not she'd pick the damn thing up anyway.

The light from the screen is the only thing he can see in the room. He's been in bed for hours – had fallen asleep pretty much as soon as his head hit the pillow. (They've had a big few weeks). He woke up with the sound of the text coming in-

(She's got his phone message and ring tones programmed all over the damn place: _so you can just tell when it's me, Sam_)

_you asleep!_

Sam figures that was meant to be a ? He closes his eyes for a few seconds – thinks about her in some tiny black number with her eyes all smokey, dancing with Peck and a thousand young guys.

(He actually managed to get her in a dress a few nights back. The hefty tip to the upmarket restaurant was worth it - she fucked him in the fancy restroom right before she ate a huge chocolate dessert).

Sam groans. He hits the call button and chews a bit at his tongue.

Andy answers first ring "Sam, Sam, Sam" is what she's got for him – all high pitch squealing, breathless and giggly like she's just been caught wagging school.

(She's got her ringtones set too. She alternates every so often; this week when he rings her it's 'See Me, Feel Me' by The Who. Every now and then she'll send him a text that incorporates a few of the lyrics - ends them with a :-P).

Sam opens his mouth to respond to her, but she's definitely on some sort of tequila induced roll: "come dance with me. I want you to come dance with me". Her tone's on the edge of demanding; a teenager knowing she can yank the chain of some guy with a crush.

Sam rolls his eyes a bit.

(She'd asked him on shift if he wanted to meet them at some point tonight. Sam had spent about two seconds considering it – even then, only because he can't handle the thought of someone else chatting her up. It's also the reason he _didn't_ want to go).

"McNally. Are you _trying_ to punish me?" The techno music is thumping in the background – loud enough to make Sam almost shout to hear himself.

Things go a bit quieter then – an echoey space type of emptiness that makes Sam wonder if she's in a bathroom.

"Hold up Sam Swarek. I'm takin' you into the laddddies room".

"Classy, McNally. Classy".

_Shit._

Even to himself he sounds pretty gruff.

The line goes quiet for a second- Sam thinks she's probably going to let him hear her pee.

(Neither of them are that shy about that sort of stuff at the best of times – she once showed him how to put a tampon in).

"You're angry with me". Oh for God's sake. Sam can practically see the pout. But –

He feels bad all of a sudden. It's just…

_jesus_…

He's _never_ been a guy that is whipped.

(And – it's not that he thinks that that's what she's about – it's just… well, there are some definite moments where she tries to prove that she's his equal…in more ways than one. Sam wonders whether maybe he should _show_ her that he believes nothing less than that).

"I…" Sam's head is spinning a bit here – he wants to get his hands in her hair and get her sober and steady. "Not angry with you sweetheart". He feels resigned to the fact that he just … adores her…. a stupid amount; racks his brain to think of things he can do or say to get her sounding happy and giggly again.

"Andy. You..ah. You need a ride home?" He's thankful she's in the quiet of the cubicles now – his voice has dropped to just over a whisper.

"Um. You don't have to do that," she's gone super quiet too.

_Jesus._

Some time in the last 30 seconds she sounds like she might have half-sobered up.

"I know. But…I will". _You know I will_ is how he was about to finish the sentence, but doesn't. "Can't have you stuck in those restrooms all night," is what he comes out with instead. He's smiling at her even though he knows she can't see it; hopes like hell she can hear it in his voice.

"Especially what with you not here." He's pretty sure that's a smile in her voice.

He's about to ask her if she wants a replay of fancy restaurant night, but -

"Is it pathetic that I miss you?" Andy blurts out.

Sam's heart damn near explodes. He has to take a good few swallows before he finds the right air. His brain has short-circuited; all the nerve-endings feel like they're clutching at straws. He knows he has to come up with something quick smart.

He's trying to tamper down the idiotic grin on his face; has built up the courage to tell her he thinks she is _far from pathetic…_ when he hears her again.

"Ugh. Don't listen to me. I am. Like, _ridiculously_ drunk".

Sam's smile goes small and he nods his head.

"Are, um, are Peck and Nash somewhere there?" Sam is out of bed by now, his jeans halfway on.

"Trace's gone. Exam tomorrow - blah blah blah". She _is_ still drunk Sam realizes – on and off with some slurring of words.

He's definitely going to go get her – fuel her with some water and hangover pills, then get her in his bed and tuck her in tight.

_(Going to wake her up tomorrow morning, give her coffee and toast in bed. Get her in the shower with him...but still damn well make sure she gets to shift on time)._

"Annnnddddyyyyyy." It's a piercing shriek from Peck that Sam hears next. "That better not be a Swarek booty call, McNally. This is giiiiirrrllllls night. Woooooo".

Andy's laughing a bit again by now, telling Gail to _shoosh._

Sam rubs at his face a bit; feels that hypothetical shower go cold as he listens to them talk things out.

"McNally! Come on. Let's get that strong, independent woman ass of yours back on the dance floor". Peck is in fine form for sure; she's as loud and bossy as Sam's ever heard her. He's figured already that he'll be headed back to bed…alone.

"Sam…" Andy's back at the speaker, a little coy and meek.

Sam bites his bottom lip, gives it a good chew. "You girls, uh. Enjoy the rest of your night?"

"Totally". Andy replies, sounding like she's cracking her knuckles and rolling her neck – getting ready for an arm wrestle. She perks her voice up to tell him "Night, Sam Swarek. Seeya tomorrow".

He can hear the toothy grin in her voice, can't help himself but smile big right on back.

"Be _safe_… Andy. McNally." She doesn't say anything after that and Sam worries that his voice might have gone a little _tooooo_ TO – it accidentally went pretty stern.

(He doesn't mean it… he just… he can't help it sometimes. He _does_ want her to be safe).

He thinks he hears a _hm-uh-huh _from her… and just like that, she hangs up.

Sam stares at the screen for a while, thinks about sending her a text. He decides against it though – has no fucking idea what to say.

He's wide awake for the next half hour – decides to take a shower for real. He thinks about her while he gets himself hot and soapy; thinks about getting her hot and soapy...eventually jerks himself off.

When he does finally get back to his bedroom her pretty damn face remains stuck in his head.

He's still half tempted to go down there, but also doesn't want to intrude. God knows, he needs to make the most of _his _personal space.

(He's already half screwed with trying to work out some boundaries about this relationship – sometimes he really wishes they'd only just met).

….

The next morning he's got 4 more texts on his phone:

The first is a photo of Andy – obviously taken by Peck – she's got a couple of guys dancing next to her. It's all innocent enough – their hands are nowhere near her and she looks more like she's dancing to herself. Still. Sam hits delete.

The second is about a half hour after that, from Andy herself. _ I'm hot_

The third – mere seconds after the one from before: _you're hot.._

The last one is from just a couple of hours ago (and Sam doesn't know why, but it irks him if it was only then that she managed to get into her bed):

This one is a picture she's taken of herself – she's. yeah. She's naked alright…and it's captioned with text: _You make me hot_

He's still feeling a little bit hard when he gets to work; can't help himself but start thinking whether today might be the day they break some of their 'no fucking at work' rules.


	4. Six of One Half a Dozen of the Other

A/N. Thanks again to everyone for the reviews! Gee, I'm churning these things out, aren't I? Yeah, well. This one just popped out too. I'm procrastinating over a major assignment at the moment so these one shots are helping to get some tension out! (It's also helping me to get on a roll again with Sam's voice for 8 Days of Boo). They might dry up for a week or so while I get cracking in those other directions, but seriously. Who knows with me - I don't mind breaking the odd rule :)

Anyway...This one is for carmi-bear, the guest, and anyone else who may have wanted a **tag to episode 6** (Coming Home) - aka the housewarming party. I know I sure as hell did. I hope this one went alright, what do you think?

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue (no matter how much I wish I did).**

* * *

Sam shells another couple of pistachios and throws them in his mouth – he looks over at Andy as she scrolls through her phone. She's been pointing out some photos to Dov and Claire for the past 10 minutes; nervously waitressing finger-foods for twenty odd before that.

(They didn't say too much on the way home. Sam tried to make a couple of jokes about what they might be in store for at the party; they…uh…yeah, they didn't go down so well).

Sam rolls his eyes and heads for the fridge.

He's had the door open for a while; doesn't particularly care about the amount of cool air that's being let out - the shelves have a whole lot less beer than he remembers from last time he was here.

"Buddy." Jerry's nudging him with a cold one to the back. Sam blows out a breath.

(Sam's probably already had a bit too much to drink, but it doesn't stop the current itch in his hand).

"Cheers." Jerry's looking over at Nash as he clinks his bottle against Sam's. (It's a thing Sam's noticed recently; how Jerry's _always_ got his eyes on her). "You and McNally okay?"

Well. He didn't make detective on his good looks alone.

"Uh-huh," Sam gets the bottle to his mouth, takes a long swig.

"Uh-huh," Jerry confirms. "Mother-in-law giving you some grief?" The right side of Barber's mouth curls up a bit; his eyes flick to Sam before they go back to seeking out Nash.

"Fuck off". Sam's quiet about it otherwise though; gets his own eyes back on McNally.

They both shut up for a while, Sam just wants to focus on drinking his beer.

"I get it Sammy. You want to protect her. You've got every right. But, you know…" Sam actually doesn't know what Jerry might follow through with there. So…he waits for what might come next.

"Maybe check in with her that that's what she wants". He's using a pretty ambivalent tone, Jerry is.

(Their friendship has never been about giving too much advice. Nevertheless, Sam knows Jerry cares - knows he knows Sam better than anyone else).

Sam nods once, then deflects. "You gonna ask her to marry you?" Sam's been trying to work out why Jerry's looks at Nash have been dialled up to about a 23 for the past couple of weeks. Initially, Sam thought Jerry had been way too burned from the first time around, but –

Well, lately… Sam just thinks Jerry's looked and sounded a bit like a guy _possessed_.

Jerry nods and smiles a little. "Keep you posted, buddy." He wanders away from Sam then, makes a beeline for Nash.

Sam takes another swig of beer; pulls up his big boy pants and ambles over toward Andy and the gathering around her phone.

She's pointing a boney finger and sliding it across the screen. "And this is just after we got cut loose…" voice hitching a bit - nerves about Claire...or the fact that Sam's now at her side.

Sam gets a hand to her lower back and gives it a friendly rub. She doesn't flinch; he figures that's a good sign.

Andy turns a little and shoots him a small smile.

"God. Ugh. Um. That's from when I got shot." She puts the screen up in Claire's face.

(Sam knows the photo. Remembers being at The Penny when Andy lifted her shirt. He feels some bile rise in his mouth and takes another swig of beer).

"Oh. Andy…" Claire's got a look on her face that is pretty stunned.

Sam thinks very clearly: _Yeah, lady. She could've died ...and you weren't there._

He moves his hand slow and gentle all the way up Andy's back – feels some goosebumps on her neck before he squeezes at her shoulder.

Andy motions for Claire to take the phone and keep looking – then gets her arm around Sam's waist and muscles him in tight.

He feels something inside of him loosen as she turns further into him. She gets on her toes and gives him a soft kiss on the cheek; wipes off the gloss with her thumb - then gives him another quick kiss.

(She likes marking him up, McNally. This morning in the locker room before parade Ollie not-so-subtly motioned for him to wipe at his chin; the remnants of a make-out at the last red before Division 15).

Claire looks over at them after she gets to the end of the roll; she smiles at them both. "Happy housewarming, Andy. I. uh. I should be heading off".

Sam releases Andy to let her see Claire to the door.

….

He's sitting on the back of the couch; talking shop with Nash and Barber when he feels her plant her fingers in his belt loops. She tugs, cuts Nash off whatever she was saying and announces loudly: "Sam helped me bake".

Sam turns his head slowly to look at her, feels her nestle her side to him close as she slides her free hand across his chest.

He gets an arm around her again; puts his hand lightly on where her top's riding up.

Nash and Jerry are both giving him a bit of eyebrow – Nash, more-so with that lopsided smirk.

"What." Andy shrugs. "He cooks" – she plants another kiss on Sam's cheek.

The moment is broken by Diaz and Epstein thundering across the room. "Okay. We're outta here, dude. Chris just challenged me to some Tokyo Jungle. Winner gets to not have to clean the bathroom for 3 weeks".

Andy and Nash walk the boys to the door; Sam overhears them lining up some rookie mega-reunion for next week.

Jerry's been staring at Sam for a while; he purses his lips, looking back at the girls "gotta love the make-up".

Sam releases another breath.

….

It's Peck next that joins Jerry and Sam – pretty much every other guest gone; she's fiddling with her phone not even looking at Jerry when she asks if she can catch a ride. Jerry's got his tongue in his cheek telling her he was thinking of giving Nash one last dance.

"I already have one too many images impaled in my brain of you swinging your limbs". Peck's still looking at her phone, her tone completely flat.

"Yeah, we should go," Nash says as she gets to Jerry's side, swinging a finger between Sam and Andy: "leave these two in peace".

Andy's landed her ass in Sam's lap by now; he's still leaning against the couch but she's pushed her way between his legs and tipped back her head, so her hair's in his face.

(All things considered, they're pretty PDA when they're off the clock. A couple of nights back at The Penny for example, Andy had stuck by Sam's side chatting with Jerry and Ollie at the bar while the rest of the Rookies played darts. She spent half her time leaning across him to talk with Ollie about how he met Zoe; Sam had to flick her hair out of his scotch at least once or twice. She'd kept her hand on his stomach mainly – eventually worked her way down).

"You don't have to leave," Andy says now - to the few that are left. She's got a tone that makes Sam think she's considering asking them all to help clean up.

A wave of vanilla wafts into his nose; it makes it impossible for him not to kiss the back of her head.

Andy wriggles her ass on him in response.

Sam swallows; It's.. yeah, it's uh – making things hard.

"Yeah. We do," Nash arcs an eyebrow at Andy, grabs at Jerry's hand.

"Ugh," Gail groans and finally looks up. "You all need a room".

Sam says goodnight to them all. Still -

He let's Andy walk them out.

….

Andy shuts the door behind them finally, blowing out some breath – then gives Sam some heated kind of look.

"You threw a good night McNally," Sam assures her, but he's still refusing to move.

She arches her back into the door and bites at her lip. "Yeah, um. Thanks again for your help". She's soft and quiet when she says it, Sam can see her chest rise and fall.

(Sam gets some sudden hot memory from last night; burnt cake and later - the way Andy first said thanks).

"Anytime," Sam takes the last sip of his warm beer. He keeps looking at her considering; decides getting her up against a wall in this moment just isn't right.

He finally manages to hoist himself straight and head for the trash.

Andy saunters in that general direction too; screws her nose up at the kitchen. "Guess we should get rid of some of this mess".

…..

Sam gets back from taking the trash outside to see they've made a good dent.

He also stops dead in his tracks at the sight of Andy cleaning benches in nothing but a skinny, and black lacy matching underwear set.

_This girl._

(Sam swears to God that he has never wanted something or someone so much in his whole entire life).

"This all looks…very...clean". It's about the most his brain can come up with at the moment – it'll just have to do. He was going to make a joke about her spilling something on herself. But, yeah. He really _does_ appreciate the view.

She turns to look at him; pokes out her tongue.

He swipes an arm to point out the place –then gives her a huge grin.

She tiptoes over to him. He manages to put one foot in front of another too; they meet somewhere in the middle of the living room. Andy links her hands with his and gets to her toes again to kiss at his lips.

"I'm sorry," she whispers – looking him dead in the eye. "I know you just want to protect me, I just…" It's interesting; this combination of feelings _and_ skin.

Sam's heart is thumping so hard he thinks it might come right out of his chest.

"Andy. I know, and I'm sorry too…okay?" He knows they should have a decent talk about this. As he said to her, he went about it the wrong way – but: he does want to protect her… he just, he really doesn't want to go into details now of _why_ that is exactly the case.

"Just … just… next time…talk to me, okay," she's whispering quiet in his ear, her arms looped around his neck.

He closes his eyes and puts his cheek against hers – gets his arms around her waist. There's still music soft in the background; some 90s ballady type schmuck. It's sorta nice though Sam admits to himself – her in his arms this way, their bodies swaying together just that tiny bit. It's not their first dance, but it feels like it is.

He gives her a soft kiss on her cheek and nods his head.

When the music finally stops she looks up at him, and fiddles with the hair at the nape of his neck. It's the same look she gave him from all that time ago when she came back for him – when he couldn't send her away from his cover apartment; when he had to, but didn't want to call for a cab.

"Take me to bed?" the way she asks the question nearly breaks Sam's fucking heart. It's breathless and wanting…and with something else he doesn't quite know.

When it comes to her... generally, it gets real hard to say no.

He picks her up bridal style, walks her slowly to bed, kissing her until he gets her down gently.

He has to take a while to collect some thoughts – mainly think about what he wants to do with her next. She really is breathtaking; all that curve and muscle, soft and tanned skin.

Andy gets her body up without giving him notice; gets his shirt off and starts at his belt and pants – her fingers quick and cold.

Sam watches her as she undresses him, rakes his eyes up and down. She's watching his face for tells by the time she's stripped him down.

"You are so fucking sexy. You know that?" He bites his lip as he says it; it kind of just slipped out.

Andy lays back and smiles - pleased. She stretches her body long, arms above her head – then lifts her legs and gets her feet on his shoulders.

"_You_ are." She says it bluntly, but blushes and holds an impish grin.

Sam simultaneously wants to get her naked and leave the black, lacy things on. He plucks a bit at the bottoms, considering – then decides to ask her "you want these off or on".

"Wore 'em for _you_," she says smiling… nudging a foot at his chest.

….

They spend the next good half hour just kissing – every piece of both of their bodies being explored with hot, delicate mouths.

They've flipped position a fair few times experimenting – both of them groaning constantly at the euphoria being dished out with the friction of skin on skin; Sam holding his hardness as long as he can stand.

It's when they're face to face on their sides that he just can't take any more. The lace and satin and _her_ against him while they're this close and watching one another's face is practically haunting him.

He wants desperately to show her that she's…_everything._ He'll let himself freak out about that feeling (again) in the morning; for now – he just _wants_ her. And he just wants to know that she wants _him._

Andy hooks her leg over his, gets herself in closer still. She's kissing at his chin with her eyes closed, barely manages to get to a silent whispered murmur: "make love to me, Sam".

Sam feels every single part of him spiral out.

He manages to get a shaky hand down between them, get his heart pumping again as he feels over the top of her and reaches his fingers in.

He pulls the pants to one side, thinks they're so flimsy they'll probably break.

His heart starts tripping again when he hears her heavy breath. She's got a hand down there too now; taking a hold and guiding him - whimpering lightly as the tip of his cock barely edges in.

Sam gets his hands up to her head, gently pulls her back to get a good look at her face.

"Look at me, sweetheart," she's still got her eyes closed…and he really…just. He wants her to.. to _see._

Her eyes open slowly and eventually look straight into his.

She lets out a long, pretty sigh as he slowly works his way in. She's out of this world wet… but so, so heartbreakingly tight.

She opens her hip further, getting her leg all the way up and around. Sam feels the stretch as it happens, feels the warm and soft of every part of her. He takes it slower still for her, wants to make it _all_ right. She's got her mouth half open and _ahh_-ing right to him, in this pretty, pretty sing-song voice - her eyes all soft and misty and watching his face. Sam's been doing some _aahs_ himself; whatever she's giving him digging deep into the base of his spine.

Sam's breath shudders hard when he finally bottoms out.

"Sam…" Andy practically sobs, biting into thin air.

"Okay? Pretty girl". Sam chokes out; really, really does want her to be okay. More than anything else.

Andy nods her head slowly. "Yes. God...Sam...yes". She rocks herself down on him hard; a determined look on her face, searching for more of whatever hit right.

Sam gets a hand on her hip to steady her, pulls himself half way out and then sets them a deliberate and achingly slow pace.

...

It's all they do for the rest of the night; this languid, slow push-pull with their hands stroking all over and watching one another's face. It's gentle and tender and in the moment, and it feels like it's ... just..._them_.

Every now and then Sam is reminded that there is a world outside; the edge of her panties making an appearance once in a while. They're rough unlike the rest of her and rub and bite into his cock. They make him buck hard and deep inside of her until it gets him on the edge.

She takes whatever he gives her though, whispers soft and right to him: "s'alright, honey. It's all alright".

(The _honey_ is new from her, but Sam gets it - he does. _This_ is like honey. _This_...)

Her voice is so soft and sex-filled it makes Sam want to come, but when she opens her hips wide and again for him...he just wants her like this for the rest of his life.

So, he makes himself go gentle again, let's her take back the lead.

...

Every time one or the other thinks they're about to go over the edge, they pause with a clench and kiss hard until it subsides. She's soft and wet and warm and clenching and her pulse there goes to about a thousand and one. Sam has never felt anything like it before, the way she just _gives_...

"Sam, Sam, Sam," Andy sobs eventually as he pauses almost on the way back out.

She bucks her hips hard to get him all the way back in. He finally snaps the last thread of those black, lacy panties as her grip goes light. "I can't…"

"ShShSh, beautiful" Sam soothes, stroking her hair. "Got you...Just.. Show me what you need".

She grabs at Sam's ass trying to push him further in, is moaning all sorts of odd adjectives before she finally chokes out "more... and hard…_please_".

Sam swings his whole self between her so they go to almost perpendicular, gets his hands back to holding her hips and rolls himself back _up. _ It's a combination of his own hip movements and pulling her hard onto him that sends them both right toward the edge.

He's gritting his teeth trying to stand it when she whispers messily in his ear "with me….now... Sam, Sam...with me". There's a stutter in her hips.

She's back and looking at his face and biting her pretty lips when he gets his hands to her shoulders and gives two final long, deep, hard thrusts.

He whispers "with you" as she starts a soft scream.

They're both making a whole lot of noise even at the end; noses bumping and messy kisses as they ride it all the way out.

...

Neither of them can seem to bring themselves to say anything after that. They hold their position for a while, just looking into one another's eyes.

Some time later Sam pulls out slowly; gently brings her leg down.

She falls asleep moments later with her face flushed deep in his chest.

...

Sam kisses the top of her head, trying not to think about anything but this moment. He feels himself start to drift off too.

He figures he'll wake before her anyway – even without an alarm.

He wraps his arms further around her and holds on _tight._


	5. I Love You Poem Seven-Up

A/N's: Firstly, thanks as always for your lovely reviews. I really, really appreciate those that take the time to drop a line to let me know their thoughts on the various scenes.

Secondly, If you've prompted a prompt that I haven't done yet, it will come – I promise - sometime! (Hey, we've got another 8 months of waiting around, haven't we?)

Finally, this is a **Tag for 3.7.** It also serves as a shout out to Essehem and the couple of guests, who wanted post Andy's I Love You! It's a completely Samcentric take on things. The first part of it is a bit all over the place – well, all of it is really (sort of how I imagine Sam's head was at the time!) It's far from being the moment I first thought might pop out, but once I started…it really was just a case of 'go with the flow'. All in all - It's written as pure experiment, so…hang on for the ride… it's pretty damn long and wild!

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue**

* * *

"Cos I will you know. Now that I've popped the 'ole cork. I mean… genie out of the bottle. I'm gonna say it all the time…"

"McNally. Just…drive".

…..

_Holy. Fucking Moly_.

Sam's head explodes.

_And. Yes, thank you very much. He does think that is actually the most appropriate use of her non-existent word._

Sam needs her to get them to The Penny, and he needs it _real_ fast – faster than the speed his brain is currently spinning, anyway – 10,000 colours and shapes of _She loves me? – _a thousand other nothings and everything else in between.

_Flashbacks of conversations about mother-in-laws and god knows only what else she was connecting some dots about…_

_And, Jesus. Did she just turn the damn heating up?_

There's seriously not enough air or space in the truck for the both of them. Not with the amount of oxygen he's using. In fact, he catches a glance at Ollie's car behind them – wonders if Shaw has got the sense to call in some back-up before they both combust.

What Sam needs more than anything else here is a drink, and it needs to be long and cold. And he needs to be around ...everyone... anyone …else.

Right now.

He needs some mob to drown out the noise.

_Andy. McNally. The woman I, ah… gave up?_

_The woman that walked away from me twice..._

_Shit._

_What?_

They're already _in_ the parking lot of The Penny – apparently they got here 2 minutes ago.

_Huh?_

_Shit,_ Sam thinks.

_Think,_ Swarek..._ think_!

_She fucking loves me? She actually said she loves me._

_Really? She can categorically say that without any hesitation –_

_That she specifically, like, really specifically wants to define things that way? Right now._

_Nope. No, _Sam thinks to himself. _Don't. Don't think._

He reaches in the glove box for chewing gum, that should help things out –

_And when the hell did the storage compartments in his truck become Andy McNally central, anyway? Fucking deodorants, and lip gloss, and Skittles, and last months Cosmo magazine…._

She's looking at him, laughing. Laughing that laugh that she does - when he's got her in stitches over some corny joke.

He opens his mouth to say...

_No. No. No. Probably_ _don't. Don't say a thing._

Sam chews the gum and blinks his eyes a few times – a pitiful effort to jump-start his brain.

_He can do this. He can. It's not like he hasn't had a woman tell him that before. Jesus; Lucy and Monica – and a …. A number before – and then some in between. Still –_

_He's trying to access the channels to how he handled all of those.. now -_

_Yeah. Ah, yeah. Not quite the same._

McNally seriously won't take her eyes off him either – won't give him a break.

He grinds his teeth; focuses to make sure his eyes stay on her face. He watches her laughing - so damn hard that it's springing some tears.

_What the hell does she think love is, anyway? She __**was**__ gonna marry Callaghan for God's sake._

Sam's gonna bring that to her attention – again – but -

Out of nowhere she collects herself, pulls it together and gets serious again; takes his hand as her eyes go saucer wide.

(Sam thinks of the first day he saw her. Gets a flash of moments after that... yeah, _always_ with those eyes).

"Seriously, Sam. I mean it. I don't need you to...to ….you don't need to say it back". And she is serious when she says that - her voice gone sharp and dry.

Sam can't, anyway. He just, he just –

(Not that he _doesn't_ think...or, or...feel... it. Or, whatever. Whatever _it_ is. _Jesus._ He _does_. All the fucking time).

_Fuck._

It's just. Sam's head is all over the place. Any "feelings" he "feels"; one big blended mess.

_What. She just trusts him with her heart like that?_

"You're a crazy woman, McNally", oh _Christ._ That one actually came out of his mouth.

She looks a little taken aback; her eyes blinking shut and a sigh this side of miffed.

_Jesus. How hard can it be to say the right words? _

_When you are who he is, it's...well, it's obviously apparent that it's impossibly hard._

"No. Andy. Sweetheart. Shit. Sorry...no. Well, sort of – but, no".

_Yes, ladies and gentleman! Roll on up and meet him. Sam Swarek. A completely fucked up fool._

_It's just. He needs more time. Or something. He needs for her not to get so fucking close. She just...she just needs to wait. She needs to prove it some more. _

_Either that, or...or...or….Let him take the time to prove some shit to himself._

_Who the fuck is he kidding? He actually has no idea what he really fucking 'needs'. He 'wants' her though –more than he can get his head around._

_Should not want her though. Not this fucking much._

Sam launches his top half over the centre console, does the only thing that seems kind of _right_. He gets his hands in her hair and pulls her to him; _takes_ her into a kiss.

She's well and truly shocked to start with - biting hard on his lip.

He keeps at her though; strokes his thumbs gentle on her jaw, licks her warm and deep.

…..

"Booyah!" Ollie raps loud at the window – two knuckles when Sam looks up - and then the peace sign. "Is this man bothering you lady? You know, I'm certified to make an arrest". He's practically shouting at them from outside, big waving hands and a stupid grin on his face.

(Obviously Shaw's over whatever the psychic said to him – either that, or he's serving up some vicarious revenge to Sam).

Whatever the case - _that_ little interruption happens when she's just starting to go soft -

Moaning that moan he likes to get out of her - her cold, fidgety hands clutching at his chest.

…..

Sam and Andy turn to the front; both blow out some air.

Decision-time, is the conclusion Sam has come to. But, there's still a major problem in the mix –

All of a sudden Sam has no idea whether he can be around _anyone_ right this minute – and in equal amounts he wants _her_ all to himself –

And the way she's looking at him…it's all over her face that he needs to make the next move…

He's got his hand stuck on the door handle though; he seriously cannot budge an inch -

So, it's Andy the brave, as usual; she hitches a thumb, shrugs a shoulder high, and smiles small for Sam. "You. Um. Wanna go in?" Her voice is tiny and shaky – further evidence mounting that Sam is a complete chump.

He tries a smile at her, and hopes like hell the dimple will give it the right effect. "Let's go". Sam's out his door and around to her side as soon as he damn-well can.

He holds his hand out tentative, rubs the knuckles when she gives him one of her own –

Both of them hold on _tight._

_…._

Sam spends the walk across the carpark figuring out some decent things he can tell her... that aren't _quite_...well, that aren't …._that_…

_quite_.

_(Wonders after step number 3 when he's coming up null, whether he should ask Ollie for some advice...)_

…

"C'mon you _loooooove_sick fools," Shaw's hollering, racing across the lot. "One beer embargo. Let's make it count!"

Sam trips over himself – then on a rock.

She's gone pretty quiet, Andy has; but like the trooper she is – keeps holding his hand.

…

Somehow she gets them both through the doors of The Penny – but only after the longest of times.

(Without realizing it he had her up against the outside of the door just moments ago. He was at her neck when she pinched at his chest and bought him back to real life: "Sam, Sam, Sam," all breathy, hitching a thumb over her shoulder and toward the door.)

"Can I buy you a drink?" Sam blurts, before they've barely stepped in.

_For the love of God. _

_He really does have no damn idea what to do with any of this._

Andy gets a crooked grin on her face finally, then shortly after …is desperately trying to tamp it down. She starts giggling out loud eventually; so persistent, Sam thinks it looks like one of those occasions it might get out of control.

He yanks her in close to _shoosh_ her; then grabs for her free hand.

It's when she's back to being chest to chest with him, Sam thinks he might choke.

…..

"Lemme get you a drink, McNally. Andy, sweetheart", all giddy like it's his first date, then - "Lemme get you a drink," finally managing it as he first intended: a hot, dirty murmer, right in her ear.

He feels the little shiver across her neck; listens close as she whispers back. "Okay".

…

"_Seriously._ Are you two just going to stand there…._canoooodling_… all night?" It's Ollie again, and he's now at a drawl.

Also: he's pointing at the two free bar stools perched up next to him – plants one sweaty hand on each.

Just like that, Sam switches plan.

….

He wants to get her home. Real, _real_ bad.

Wants her to show him, exactly –

_Wants_ to _show_ her…

Could be that he's in some real trouble here -

And it's feeling more and more like it could have some capital T.

…..

"One drink. Then we're outta here." He's talking to McNally, but it's also emphatic and directed to the rest of the world. He's pulling her toward the bar, clear past the rookies, and when they get to near Ollie –

Sam physically picks Andy up and plants her there.

Shaw's got a look on his face, eyeing the two of them like something Sam's never seen. "You guys in a hurry now too, huh?" he queries, nose twitching and a light grin on his face.

"Yep" Sam responds, popping hard at the p.

"I…" Andy starts, looks up at Sam, _Sir?_ - then nodding like gangbusters as Sam gives her a little pinch on the hip; "Yep, Yep, Ollie. Places to be".

(Oh for fuck's sake – she's even beginning to _sound_ like Sam. It hasn't escaped his notice; the tough guy act she's putting on more frequently at work).

"Uh huh," Ollie's off and stroking his chin: "_I see, I see". _

Sam throws a bill on the counter; holds three fingers up for a shout.

….

They sit there sipping their beers quietly when the drinks get served – except for Ollie's incessant nattering about the strong possibility that he is t_otally, totally gonna_ ask Zoe out on a date.

"Good luck with that, brother," Sam says after he's listened long enough, slapping at Ollie's back.

(Andy's had a hand in his jean pocket the whole time. Sam's had to bite his tongue with every damn twitch of her fingers, gave her thigh some squeezes when she got _too_ close).

Sam's back on the move with the gesture; none of them have finished their drink… but, yeah…

He's done with hanging about.

He tugs at Andy again; throws a coat on her and wraps her in tight.

…..

The trip back to the truck is near lightning speed. "I'm driving," Sam announces as they get there; "but..but.." he hesitates hedging as he opens the door for her…"you can still keep those keys".

…..

It's only when he's behind the driver's wheel that his head gets some sense of straight. He can look at her without blushing now, can keep his voice low and on an even keel.

He takes a couple of deep breaths and tells her, looking straight in her eyes: "Come home with me".

She keeps her eyes on him as she nods her pretty head, says; "let's go" so quiet, Sam thinks its to herself.

…

They get to his joint at a snail's pace – neither saying a single fucking word.

(Andy barely said anything _in_ the bar either; just nodded enthusiastically at Ollie and giggled politely at any jokes).

Sam wonders if he's spooked her now - nods to himself; figures it serves her right.

Andy dared the odd look at him sideways on the trip - bit her lip hard twice.

(He'd turned the radio on for her after the second time; figured that'd help some more with calming of everyone's nerves).

He decides to slow his roll right the hell on down though – yeah, from hereon in he wants things real, real slow.

…

When they get through his door he shuts it careful and deliberate before he helps her with her coat.

He gets his hands on her cheeks when she goes to move - he wants her here in the hallway; wants to watch her face. "You're something, you know that?" Sam says quiet and just for her, his heart ticking over a beat.

She doesn't say anything back to him, but pulls out a smirk.

Sam keeps his hands on her face when he kisses her then – long and achingly slow.

He pulls away every so often to check on her; finally she kisses back like the McNally he knows.

"Andy…" Sam sighs after minutes have passed. Changing his mind _yet again_, "You…ah…you want something to eat?" He does want this slow is the thing – wants to make it perfectly clear that he actually does kind of like _that _thing she said (even if he can't quite believe it still).

She looks back at him shell-shocked – her eyebrows right up to her hairline. It makes Sam wonder if he is that big of a douche that she expects something different from him. "Worried I might think less of you if you skip some stuff and just take me to bed, Swarek?" She's got a tease to her voice that's matching a down right ridiculous one of her pouts.

Sam's having none of it though, so he gives her a playful smack to the ass. "You've devoured me on an empty stomach before, McNally. I just wanna come out of this alive".

For that he cops a fist to his stomach, hard enough to wind him – even if it is only a little, no damage done.

She's all over him with "shit sorry, shit, Sam, sorry" before he gathers his breath. It didn't hurt him at all – but judging by the horrified look on her face, Sam hedges that she doesn't know that. And, he knows it's a dangerous game he's playing, but he loves it when things are a tease –

"Thought you said you loved me," he manages without laughing – even strings together a few faux coughs for some extra special effect.

It takes her a good 30 seconds of more wide eyed, open mouthed sorries before he can't help himself – he starts laughing straight in her face.

She snorts at him then, narrowing her eyes. "Actually. For that. Yeah, you know what? You're taking me out". She gets the keys out of her pocket and dangles them in his face. "Oh, and I'm driving." She's huffing and puffing so hard it gets him laughing some more. It'd be a lie for him to say he didn't like her like this – it's a turn on… that's for damn sure.

He tugs at her belt loops as she heads them to the door, pulls her so she backs into him and bites at her ear "love when you're mad" he murmurs – real, real low. He follows it up with a kiss to the lobe to soothe her then pushes his hips forward to give her a good and solid bump from behind.

Andy lets out a little squeak as he does it, catches his hand and tugs at him so he stays in close. She's laughing again too, flicking her hair at him and getting back into the game.

…..

When they do finally open the door, Shaw's standing there – his fist poised up for a knock. He's got his bag on one shoulder and an obnoxious look on his face.

"You're spare keys weren't under the rock." Shaw says dryly - he's got his face contorted into something Sam can't quite place.

"Huh?" If there was ever a day that Sam felt he'd lost track, this would be it. Andy's at his side shuffling from foot to foot, holding on to Sam still, and maintaining her own surprised face.

(Most of the time when they're alone and she gets this tetchy, he'll just sink a hand down her pants. With company they both have to settle with him rubbing at the small of her back).

"Brother. Remember the _advice_ you gave me about not staying in a hotel?" Ollie snorts at Sam and Andy as he walks his way past them "well, I put a call into Zoe. Yeah. Still not taking me back".

_Well. Right about now, Sam thinks Ollie's not the only one shit out of luck –_

Andy turns to Sam as they watch Ollie dump his bag and head to the kitchen. She's biting her lip and staring at him, probably wondering what he's gonna – or thinks - he should do next…

Sam rubs her back some more and doesn't move from his spot. "Ollie," Sam calls out "ah… you okay here by yourself?"

"TV. Check. Beer. Check. Mac and Cheese. Check," Ollie replies walking through various rooms collecting blankets and pillows and making himself at home. "You kids go have some fun…" and a muffled "gotta be some love left in the world" as Sam and Andy yell out goodbyes.

…..

Luckily for Sam, McNally's a girl with pretty simple tastes.

They end up at a burger joint that's closer to hers.

It could be a coincidence, but Sam's wondering if she was on to him – and has purposely got herself back in control of…of whatever…this…is. He must have some sort of look on his face too -

"What," Andy demands all doe-eyed. "I just felt like I needed the best cheeseburger in town".

Sam's not too troubled at this stage though - he's definitely a little more relaxed. It's not like he could forget the fact she said _that_ thing, it's just that for now, yeah…She's happy and flirty and generally keeping things real, real light.

They spend the next hour like a couple of horny teenagers sharing burgers and shakes – McNally all handsy under the table and Sam with his under her shirt. She's practically in his lap when the waitress comes over to see if they want some dessert.

"We'll get your triple chocolate mousse.." McNally declares as Sam strokes some fingers feather-light over her skinny ribs. "To go," she squeaks loudly as he reaches the cup of her bra.

….

"My place is closer," is what she retorts when Sam queries how they ended up at hers. "And, besides.. you really want Oliver's commentary tomorrow morning blow by blow?"

_It has to be said – Sam cannot argue with that, so -_

He backs her up against the kitchen bench and gets a thigh between hers. He looks her over good and proper, is finding himself absurdly happy that they're both getting close to being all the way relaxed. He gets himself eyelevel with her and gives her a tiny kiss on the lips then pulls back just enough to let her know quietly "do love your Shawless place".

She gets a bit tetchy, and gives him a push to the chest telling him snottily "And besides, you're such a neat freak, you'd have a problem with getting chocolate all over your sheets…."

Well. That perks Sam's ears right the fuck up.

Andy swallows, her eyes going wide - clearly she had not thought out what the exact implications of that particular statement of hers might mean.

Sam gets himself right up to her again and gives her a kiss on the cheek: "do love my sheets". He picks up the dessert and plants it in one of her hands – rubs his thigh higher as he gets her a spoon.

She keeps the loot in her hands but bites at her lip as he lifts her; all the way up and around his hips. He drops his voice another octave to tease her some more, raises an eyebrow as he tells her "but I think I love yours more".

Andy's opening and closing her mouth like a goldfish and she's gone beetroot red, Sam figures mission accomplished and decides to put her out of her misery and walks them to her bed. He puts her down good and steady, "love that you love chocolate," he whispers as he kisses an ear on the way to her landing.. "and _I love_ ….when we're both in your bed".

Sam knows he's being a bit of an ass here, but it really is –

The best he can do.

She's letting him off the hook too; laughing again now and sing-songing to him a thousand little _Sam!_s

He kisses her good and proper for her efforts - for not making him want to run a thousand fucking miles.

…..

Sam takes the dessert and spoon from her, puts them off to one side. He wants to get her naked pretty badly now – wants to see how this whole thing will go.

He runs his hands up and down her; slow, slow, slow, doing some undressing as he goes. He leans back as he rolls her jeans off – inching them down those long, tan legs. He's imagining the chocolate on her already, and of how it might taste -

Sam takes some more time just to look at her – then stops breathing for a second as she reaches out to him; only just manages to help her with getting his own clothes off.

….

The problem is that his brain's starting to make it's way back to foggy – watching her all naked and vulnerable below him, hearing the hitch in her breath when his hands hit somewhere right. He's back to hearing her voice in his head: the "I love you" and her laugh. He wants it not to be there for now, really doesn't want one single fucking possibility for anyone to feel hurt.

Andy's looking at him curiously, still with half a smile. She gets up on her elbows and rolls her eyes eventually, blows at her bangs and whines and kicks at him: "You gonna give me my dessert?"

_Fuck. He really does love her – a ridiculous amount. _

Sam decides then and there to lock all unproductive thoughts away.

…

Sam picks up the mousse and scoops some out – feeds a spoonful to her so he can hear her moan before he gets the next one out.

"Oh wow," Andy exclaims through the moan, mouthful of mousse. "Even better than I hoped."

He's between her legs and she's all propped up with pillows, the headboard at her back - her knees at his ribs. It's going to work for them like this for sure, Sam thinks –

He gets a couple of fingers into the mousse and watches her face before he pulls them back out. She's watching him back he realizes, her mouth barely open and the slightest hint of her pink, wet tongue.

"You _are _dessert," he tells her quietly – doesn't care about the hundred clichés that probably roll around in her head. He doesn't think she much cares either, she's back to biting her lip.

He gets his moussed up fingers to just below her neck, stills on her pulse point and feels his own surge as hers quickens up.

"We're gonna make such a mess," she giggles lightly – a blush at a thousand degrees.

He takes his time in drawing a straight, steady line all the way down. "Apparently mess is what you like.." Sam going all the way hard as he sees a shiver out of her and the reflex arch of her back.

"Okay," McNally breathes in nervously "that's. um. Yeah. That's pretty hot".

(She's definitely got a thing for watching him do things to her too. There's actually some film footage of them floating about on her phone -)

He repeats the process again, taking his time; first marking up her breasts using both sets of fingers and then moving down to her ankles and getting her chocolatey - all the way up and inside both her legs.

He stands at the edge of the bed to look down at his handy-work – has to spend a good few minutes on some controlled breathing while he considers -

"Saaaaaam…" Andy's been in a bit of a state throughout the whole process – dirty whimpers and groans wherever he went. She's open to him now, just like she'd let him do anything. All wide-eyed and trusting and excited like Christmas about what's coming up next.

He kneels on the edge of the bed, lifting one of her legs up to kiss at her ankle, then opens his mouth further to nibble and suck. The mousse is insanely sweet, but it's a heady mix with the light salt of her skin –Sam gets memories of salted caramel swarming around in his head.

He moves on up the rest of that leg the same way, happy to take his time – Andy's sighing soft and pretty and smiling down at him, so he wants to be on this for a while.

"Seriously. You're mouth is the best mouth," she informs him all breathy as he gets midway in her thigh. He keeps sucking there as she gets her hand in his hair and pets at him like he's a _good boy_.

….

Her hips are tilting up like a hot invitation by the time Sam gets his mouth right in a crease. Andy's hand flies to his neck and scratches, her hips stuttering as she demands "yes, Sam. Please…_there_".

He kisses at the spot lightly before he shooshes to her to be patient, and then continues the trail he wants to follow –

His mouth and nose at least are covered with mousse as he licks over toward her stomach but he really couldn't care less. Somewhere in his reverie he hears her again: "Sam. Tell me how it tastes".

(Yeah, not just the visual thing she likes. She likes to _taste_…likes that _Sam_ likes to taste).

Sam tries to collect his thoughts .. "mmmm… "; decides to get his mouth on hers to let her really know. The moan that comes out of her as he licks into her that way is about the best thing he's ever heard. When he pulls away he smiles at her -

She leans back pleased too. "Totally want to do _you_".

"Bet you want me to finish you first." Sam says, getting himself back toward her navel as she grabs at his shoulder to try push him even further down.

He actually likes how _impatient _she can get when she wants what she wants -

But. Yeah. He doesn't want to go there just yet – wants to have every other part of her in his mouth first.

….

He lifts his eyes and moves up her stomach again slowly, pauses on her for a second when he feels his cock slide through some of the leftover mousse. For a good long moment he has to be active in preventing one particular image from staying in his brain.

Her back arches high as he gets his mouth to just under her breasts. All in all she's getting demanding and point blank grinding her hips at him with a determined _SamSamSam_.

He gets his mouth on one of her pert breasts, sucks hard at a nipple as he slowly works his hand between her legs and then gets two fingers inside of her. He listens for her whimper before he comes up again to kiss at her mouth.

He lets her fuck on to him that way as he licks off the rest, her with her hands on his shoulders and holding on tight as she builds up a steady rhythm –

Sam circles her clit slow with his thumb as he bites at her gently on the way back down.

When he finally gets his tongue to where she's wettest she's clenching around his fingers tight. He gets his tongue a part of the way in on one release and keeps himself there as she comes.

...

She's up and all over him before she's even finished, so firm and muscly determined that she wrestles 'til he's on his back. "Let me, Sam. Let me" Andy sighs at him as she sucks at the chocolate marks he has on himself.

_Well. This here is another instance that Sam doesn't have to be told twice._

She slides her sticky body down over him, biting at some of the marks. It's only when she gets to his hip that she pops her pretty head up "tell me what you want".

Sam opens his mouth to answer – imagines her mouth around his cock and about twenty other things.

But –

_Something_ in the way she said it made Sam's heart skip a beat.

_(I love you, there I said it, mother-in-law, and a hundred other things….)_

...

All of a sudden the air between them feels serious, Sam not knowing which way to jump. He knows she's happy with things the way they are now…but, yeah, Sam's not stupid enough not to know that'll always be enough.

Sam knows he's taking a leap here, but something in him wants it – at least that's what he thinks, so –

He gets his hands in Andy's armpits, pulls her all the way back up. He manages to get her sitting gently and still on his stomach as he props himself up. He slides a hand to her face and brushes some hair out of her eyes.

He slows his breathing down, finally closing his mouth once to wet it before he opens it again to answer her properly:

"Just you," coming from deep at the back of his throat.

Andy doesn't say anything else, but she gives him a tiny, soft smile.

She lifts herself up enough to find the space she needs to get her hand between them; she takes a hold and guide him inside of her -

Then slowly but in one movement she sinks all the way down.

_Fuck _is what Sam thinks, and what Andy says.

Andy moves Sam's hands down to rest on her hips as she rolls forward and gets them chest-to-chest. She's trying to kiss him as she sets their rhythm but sighs happily into him instead.

Sam lets her take control like that; lets her move over and outside of him like waves.

He is pretty much engulfed – generally speaking, by her. He's never felt quite like this before – like he's completely washed out to sea. Loves the feeling and can't stand it; both at once. And Andy...well-

She's both the one who has leaves him stranded…and is his life buoy.

...

She comes again as she brings him to the edge – rolling her hips all the way hard and down.

Sam has to hold on tight to her as it happens, feels himself go so deep he thinks he'll never get out. He can't help himself but come too - wants to be in this space forever, wants her to hold him right there.

She rides them both out hard though, wringing every last thing that he's got. "I do, okay. I just do," she tells him over and over with her mouth on his - until she eventually calms down.

...

When they're at the other side of it she keeps curled up on him and buries her face in his neck. He strokes her hair as she repeats a phrase from a long, long time ago: "You think the universe has a plan for us?"

And just like back then, Sam thinks it's probably unlikely – but he really, really does hope it's so.


	6. It Takes Two, Baby

_AN: Okay, people! This has been half hanging about in my docs (along with a few other part scenes for this fic) for a while... No doubt these will keep popping up now and again – especially after I've finished with 8 Days of Boo._

_You're going to have to wrap your brains around going all the way back to the start of the season for this one. It takes place just before 3.2 and that whole Sam not knowing where Andy threw his watch scene (thanks to balladofbliss for the prompt). It didn't turn out quite as I planned...but these scenes never seem to. _

**Warning/**apology for just how explicit it actually gets...I've tried to talk around any particular language that might point the compass to a turn-off rather than on!

**Disclaimer: I don't own Rookie Blue**

* * *

McNally's got her game-face on. She's been over in the corner playing darts with the rookies since they got here two hours ago. She throws her muscly arms in the air and hollers "winner!" once in a while; and plants the brightest smile on her face that Sam thinks he's ever seen.

He's been sending a drink to her on every one of those counts.

(On her third success, she turned immediately in the direction of Sam and blew him a kiss as her arms came back down. Epstein turned to face him too, two thumbs up and a ridiculous grin).

The position he's got at the bar is a good one; he can watch her without it being too obvious to anyone…including himself. Shaw left a few minutes ago, so now it's just Jerry and Sam.

"Traci was thinking we might get you guys over for dinner this weekend," Jerry says to Sam, before he takes a sip at his drink.

Sam turns his face to look at Jerry, see how serious he might be about that. "What. You and Nash hangin' for a double date?"

Jerry purses his lips together, looks over at the game of darts. "Trace is concerned that you guys are laying a little _too_ low – keeping yourselves to yourselves. Know what I mean?"

(That's a thing Sam can't deny. When they're not on the job, they've been holed up in one or the other's apartment ever since Sam asked her how they should start. They've been out a few times for dinner, but yeah –

Even then: the rest of the world wasn't in on the act).

Sam snorts. "Nash been marathoning with Dr Phil again?"

"C'mon, Sammy. It's been…what…a month or so, since she's been back?" Jerry clucks at Sam, nudges with his elbow enough to make Sam cough up his drink.

"Yeah. And I didn't see her for 3 months before that," Sam says, feeling his temperature rise.

(Sam's trying hard not to stay feeling too shitty about that; he doesn't blame her really – wanting to save her job and all that. It's just… well, Sam didn't have the easiest time recovering after Brennan with her not around).

At the look on Jerry's face, Sam thinks he might be sounding a little _too _snappy – so he decides to pull back a gear; angles for lightening things up…"We still have some catching up to do," Sam rubs at his chin as he says it, then uses some heavy emphasis on the word "alone…."–

Sam looks over at her again now, she's punching hard at the arm of Epstein. Sam catches her eye briefly; McNally pokes her tongue out. Sam gets a tighter grip on his drink. His hands have been itching to get on her since they walked in the bar – her touching him up the whole drive here.

(They'd stood outside the division for a good 15 minutes before that, debating whether to come here at all. The shitty shift had left Sam just wanting to get some pizza into her and get her back in his bed. He gave into her pouts of '_but, we haven't hung out there forever, Saaaam'_; he considers now whether the looks that she gets on her face will bring about his end).

Jerry rolls his eyes. "Whatever you say, buddy." He stands and grabs his coat; slaps a hand to Sam's back. "Still – might be interesting to know what McNally has to say".

Sam watches as Jerry makes his way over to Nash and whisper something in her ear. Nash turns to Andy and gives her a quick hug – then waves to the rest of the rookies as Jerry drags her toward the exit.

Sam can hear Andy's laugh above everything – even from over here.

…

"Hey," McNally pants at Sam as she makes her way to the bar. She's left Diaz and Epstein in her wake …"thanks for the drinks". She's a little giggly as she says it; leans in to Sam and kisses her wet mouth on his lips.

It's a reflex now; the way he catches her hips when she gets this close. "Hey, pretty girl," he kisses back softly then bumps at her nose. "You ready to go?"

"Mmmmmm" she moans leaning further into him. Sam wonders whether he should've stopped plying her with alcohol two drinks ago. "You smell good," Andy says now with her nose in his neck.

He pets up her back gently and kisses her on the cheek. "Let me take you home, McNally".

She pulls back to look at him for a good long moment, then leans back in. Between kisses she tells him: "You always take me home. Let's go somewhere else".

Sam stands up, shuffles them into a position where he can think straight. He sticks his tongue in his cheek and considers for a while as he watches her pretty face take on at least three expressions. "You in the mood to party, McNally?"

She looks up at him and smirks, wraps her hands around the back of his neck. She stands on her toes and kisses him, then murmurs quietly right on his cheek "with you…anytime".

Sam rolls his eyes and laughs at her. He can't help it – her seductions sometimes are seriously those of a 16 year-old boy. She laughs at herself too, thumps her head a couple of times on his shoulder for special effect.

He gets her hand in his and motions to the door. "Let's go".

…

Sam gets her up against the truck before he opens her door. He's been wanting to kiss her good and proper for a while now is the thing, the fresh air doing nothing to quell the desire.

(They have a strict hands-off policy during all working hours. _ God, Sam. Last time…like… it nearly got you killed._)

"You. Are a very good…. darts player," Sam tells her – rubbing his hands up and down her sides before he gets into the kiss. It's slow and deep and punch-drunk, and has Andy clutching at his ears. As he pulls away from it, he gives her a gentle bite on the lip.

"And, you. Are a very good kisser," she says trying to catch her breath.

He likes watching her like this; the way she is after he's done something right. Her chest is heaving and her smile is dialled up to about a hundred and one. She's blushing too, and not just her cheeks. Sam thinks of the other times he's seen her blush like this, decides to test the theory out –

He feigns to kiss her mouth, but then goes right – heads toward her neck instead. He gets his thigh between hers and thrusts _up_.

The'_oh, god' _that comes from the back of her throat is a dead give-away.

Sam gets his whole body against her, gets his mouth against her ear. He hears the door of The Penny slam shut just as he murmurs quietly "Andy," Sam focuses on getting his breath. "McNally…we…Let's get outta here."

….

They've managed to get through about three sets of lights before Sam brings up the prospective double date. "Jerry and Nash have invited us to dinner this weekend. She, uh. She tell you that?"

"Ugh," Andy rolls her eyes. "Like, only 30 times over the last 3 days."

"You left it for Jerry to ask me?" Sam says, wondering what all _that_ is about.

"Hm. Sort of. I mean. I guess I would've bought it up with you eventually". She's biting at her lip now, coming out of a lusty haze; maybe sobering up. "I just. I mean, I know we're taking things slow. I mean. I like that we're just taking some time just for …us."

"Andy…" Sam starts, pulling up in front of her condo.

(He decided before she got in the truck that it was a night just for getting her home.)

"Andy….I'm fine with us being…_us_…. in public…" Sam starts. _ Jesus, is he fine with that - _ "I just. Yeah, I just want to make sure there is an ….._us_".

"What?!" Andy's eyes pop out, Sam wonders whether her head might spin right off.

"That… that didn't come out quite right." Sam blows out some breath. And god, he really just doesn't want her to think that he doesn't want an _us_… but he needs to take her cue. He needs her to be sure about all of this. "I'm just saying – when you left, we were in limbo, okay? And now…well, I dunno. When I asked you how we should start…. Jesus, Andy. I'm just trying to take your lead".

She gets her seatbelt off and turns to face him square, her eyebrows all crosses and angled everywhere.

Next thing Sam knows she's climbing over the console and into his lap. She takes his face in her hands and tells him: "I want _us_. I want _private_ us. I want _public_ us. I want _us _everywhere, okay?"

Before Sam can answer that particular gem, she's kissing into him – and running her hands up the inside of his shirt.

(They do want one another everywhere too, it seems – the only goddamn place that's safe from them trying to get in one another's pants is at work...even _that_ involved a near miss the other day...)

He puts his own hands at the back of her head and pulls her back to get a good look at her face - bee-stung lips and big doe eyes. He smiles small at her and responds very quietly: "okay."

He pulls her back into a kiss before he can think it all out as to what the reality of the '_us'_ actually means.

(The thing is, in all those months apart – he never quite did get his head around what normal for them might be. His decision now is hedging on something like... _go with the flow_).

She's at his belt when some headlights hit them – bright and sharp.

"Okay, okay...maybe not out here this time..." Andy blushes frantically with her top and his belt halfway off.

….

Andy practically makes him piggyback her all the way up her stairs. When he stops at her door, she slides her way down his body and gets herself in a position to use the key.

"I can't believe you bought me home …again," Andy says mock annoyed - but all in all she's smirking like she's not so hard done by.

"Yeah, well". He pinches her backside. "Didn't think there was any other place that it would be safe for you to be".

She pulls him through the door as it opens and pushes him against it to get it closed; his back hits it with a thud. "Probably that was pretty wise of you," she says kissing him open-mouthed and hard, groaning as she pushes her chest into his. _Well_ – Sam thinks. She definitely wants at least one kind of _us_ tonight.

He thinks about slowing things down here; wonders briefly whether to ask her whether they've just agreed to forty years worth of Barber-Nash dinner invites.

But the way she's practically climbing him has him hard and wanting more of her already, so he figures, yeah- just …._go with the flow._

He goes to get her shirt off but she brushes away his hands and yanks at his first. She steps back from him to take her own top off and throws both tees in the air - flinging them to the other side of the room.

Sam bites down a grin as he watches her – all wild hair everywhere and a determined look on her face.

(Thinks back to the second time at the cover apartment and how she got all un-shy there).

She gets her body back on Sam's and kisses the smirk off his face. As she does it she unlatches and whips his belt off.

Sam decides fair is fair and gives as good as he gets; yanking at her jeans and pants until they're all the way down.

The tussle that ensues between them is pretty hysterical...items of clothing strewn over the floor as they wrestle their way toward her bedroom. By the time they're through the doorway – basically everything is off; McNally all knees and elbows as she does most of the work to strip them both bare.

Andy's got him pinned underneath her as she looks up and notices her hand has just run itself over his watch. She leans right across him – this ridiculously horny action that gets her breasts right in his face.

She grinds her hips into his whining as Sam sucks hard at a nipple – he feels a hard tug at his wrist as he does it but he could really care less.

Sam tries for a reverse push up – wants badly to get her laid out on the bed. She pushes him back down bossily though; uses two hands on his chest. "You're not going anywhere, Swarek."

Sam's head thuds back against the floor. He closes his eyes for just a second as he feels her run herself against the length of him – an action that makes him realize he's in a losing battle here.

"Fuck...Andy," he groans as she does it again...and again.

The strokes against him are getting slower and slower...and wetter and wetter...a thing Sam's not going to be able to handle much more of. It's not that he's averse to the sensation, it's just –

The contrast between the hard floorboard rubbing at his back and the insanely soft and pliable friction that is.._her_...is making his head spin.

When he looks up at her, she's got her eyes fixed down there and between them – every now and then it's either a sharp gasp or whimpering sob that comes out of her mouth.

Sam decides then to hold out to help her...he wants to see _this_ too. He clenches his teeth against the feeling – has to hold on with everything to ensure the magnetic pull of her doesn't slip him inside.

He gets one hand down between them to hold the base of himself. Andy looks into his eyes as he does it, her mouth opening wide.

Sam figures here that she's maybe got some of that dual sensation that he's got going on. He holds her hip in his other hand to get a feel for the rotation she's angling for -

"Yep. There," Andy chokes out as the back of Sam's hand nestles right outside where he can feel her clenching on and off. It's obviously enough to give her the tease she wants there - while she ensures her clit continues petting all the way up and down his cock.

He watches on in awe as her hands fly up to her hair. Sam rubs just gentle – slides his wrist further to get her stickiness onto more of him.

As he does it, McNally throws her head all the way back – then down. One of her hands returns to grab hold of him – and keep him where she wants. She fucks the outside of herself _hard_ as the pressure digs into her clit... Sam doing everything it takes _just_ to watch.

"Sam!" Andy sounds like she's shocked every bone in her body. "Gonna..." she pants as she comes all the way and right over him, continuing with the strokes.

"Sweetheart...?" Sam croaks back, himself well and truly shocked and not quite sure what to do next. Her warmth is dripping around and over _everything_ he's got down there.

Andy's hips stutter just a fraction as she leans herself forward to lie on his chest. She gets her hand on his and helps him slide right inside of her as she sucks in an "oh, god" – and makes this another task that turns Sam's brain white –

It's the frantic clenching that she's already got going that makes things a pretty tough push. But –

It's worth every single millimetre...and rattles Sam to his core. "_Jesus_," he explains when he finally manages to get half way in.

Andy is the roughest she's ever been – shoving herself further and further on to him as her face slides between his neck and his chest. "Want you," she whimpers shakily, as she continues her push down.

After he's all the way inside of her she pulls herself up just enough...

She reaches down to collect the hand he's got rubbing her, and brings it up above his head to join its mate. Her knees have to be hurting the way they're knocking into the hardwood as she rides him – but the look on her face suggests she just doesn't care.

"Andy," Sam squirms helplessly – hands still above his head and his thrust on a relentless search. "Gotta.."

She kisses him hard as he finishes the word and shoves herself one last time all the way down.

Sam's hips jerk in retaliation. He sucks the breath out of her mouth as she keeps kissing – all the while losing every piece of himself.

When it's over and the stars have finally left the room, he looks up at her mesmerized and wonders where the hell all that came from.

Andy licks her lips as she watches him – manages to pull herself into the upright sit slowly and then smiles broadly as she rubs a little at her knees.

He laughs out once loud and friendly. "You. Are. Somethin'. Else," he grins – still most of the way out of breath...and beyond the state of deliriously pleased.

McNally goes all coy for a second. After that she reaches her hand out to stroke at his face. The tenderness stops just as suddenly though as she shrugs a shoulder and tells him with some bravado: "You bring out the best in me."

She's still a little breathless herself, truth be known...but she rocks off him slowly and giggles somewhat slyly. "Um...so you wanna go to bed?"

...

Sam wakes early, early the next morning – his back and joints all on fire. He rolls halfway to look at Andy's sleeping figure – hears the thud of his pulse as he wonders what this day might hold.

He feels in a stupor already quite frankly – all loved up on her and the way she hardly has to lift a finger to get under his skin.

Memories of last night flash in front of him...the way she had him...the way she wanted him back. His heart pounds as he goes halfway hard – and then shakes his head.

He just can't be turning up to work like this – cannot _want_ her all of the time...not this _much_.

Sam springs out of bed, believing (hoping like hell) a run and a shower will do the trick.

He follows the trail of destruction; tracks down his underwear and jeans... he curses himself as he has to go back into the bedroom to locate his watch and his shirt.

Andy's propped on the bed all mussed up beautiful by the time he re-enters the room. He looks at the way the sun beats a path across her face – sees the expression there already...

She wants the more that he just can't quite give.

He wills her the only silent thought that lingers in his head: _I'm leaving now, but I'll always want you._


	7. A Whole Lot More Than Three

A/N: This is for anyone that may have wanted a tag for 3.3. (Did I gush at their hand-holding coming out of the station? Yes, I did!). It's from Sam's POV (because - well - just because...but mainly as a tribute to his hands ;).

**Disclaimer: I don't own Rookie Blue.**

* * *

She holds on to his hand the whole way home.

…

"You're good with your hands, huh." McNally states, like it's a revelation the whole world should know.

("I think I totally have a thing for you having your hands on me." It was something she told him way back at the cover apartment – after the first time around.

If you want the God's honest truth, Sam has a thing for it too. The way their hands just fit together when they held one another walking out of the precinct; the way her skin goosebumps underneath his hands as they hit all the right spots; the way her hair feels between his fingers when he threads his way through; the way she comes sometimes just with his touch -)

She's perched up on Sam's kitchen bench and crunching on a carrot; the noise that's coming from her is possibly the most unladylike thing that he's ever heard. Still –

She's nothing short of endearing.

Every now and then Andy kicks out one of her bare feet and tries to dip her cold toes into the waist of his jeans...only when he's not holding the knife though.

He's been slicing and dicing fresh vegetables for a good ten minutes. It wouldn't normally take him this long to prepare for a stir-fry, but McNally is a serious distraction – especially what with all that bare skin protruding from her singlet and the way she bites her lip over the way Sam uses a knife.

(He picked up some culinary skills from an ex; a cute sous chef that he'd dated on and off when he was just out of the Academy).

Andy likes watching him work in the kitchen is a thing he found out early on in this relationship. She's not a bad cook herself – Sam figures her background, like his, might've occasionally meant she had to fend for herself. Still – even when they're in her kitchen, she likes to leave him with the most manual of tasks.

McNally's bossy on the domestics though – pretty much the same as she is in the field. She built up a food plan this week for them...and has had Sam cooking every night so far; even enough for leftovers too. ("C'mon Sam, we'll save money on lunches this way...") He's pretty sure she'd have his whole year mapped out if she could -

Sam's a little concerned that she's eyeing off his backyard for all its vegetable patch potential. Not that he wouldn't mind growing a few things... but he doesn't really have the time or inclination, not yet anyway –

"You gonna help me with this?" Sam asks her now – perhaps too abruptly. Seriously, though – she's practically moved in here the last fortnight and Sam does not know what to do about that. (He likes having her here, it's just – he thinks maybe she's angling to know a little _too_ much about him – in too short a space of time...)

Andy actually manages to get her toes inside his jeans on that. "What?" She quirks an eyebrow at him. "Last time I tried to help you shooed me away."

(He did too; smacked at her backside with the spatula he'd just retrieved from a drawer. It's just that her vegetable cuts are a little too clunky for what Sam likes -)

"Heat the oil," Sam says now with a chip on his shoulder...for no real reason at all. As Sam reaches up to get the produce for her, McNally practically tackles him around the waist.

She holds on monkey tight and gets her mouth to the lobe of his ear. "Okay, Swarek. What's up with you?"

Sam closes his eyes when she bites at him – he feels the pleasure course through his body as it practically vibrates of its own accord. He has no idea, is the thing. One minute he's blissfully happy – the next he feels like running he's so damn scared. He thinks the problem could be just because how much she makes him feel...

And. To top it all off, he's finding it harder and harder to keep her at an arms length.

"Nothing. Nothing's up, McNally." Sam turns to her as he gradually opens his eyes. His current short spate of moodiness is completely unfair. He puts his hands up to caress at the sides of her face; he just hopes like heck they won't have to talk.

Andy peers back at him somewhat suspiciously, but does let it drop. Eventually she unwraps her arms from his torso – then gets her hands on his. "I think I know what your problem is," Andy puckers in her lips and waggles her eyebrows.

"Oh yeah?" Sam asks her cautiously, both sets of hands still on her face.

Andy nods sternly and taps her fingers across his. "We haven't had sex in like...12 hours."

Sam snorts out a surprised laugh and rolls his eyes at her.

_This girl._

This girl, indeed. Still – she could be more than half right...what with the way he misses her when she's not around for a night...

Mind you, that's not a thing that's been a particular problem for this past number of weeks. They're always at one another's place –

"That's my problem, huh?" Sam inches his body closer into her – then he gives her the tiniest thrust of his hips.

Andy lets out a short, sharp gasp on the connection. She swallows before she speculates some more – all of a sudden Sam thinks it looks like she should be going a touch shy. "Either that...or you're really hungry." She averts her eyes from his – looking in the direction of the stovetop instead. She's dropped her hands too...they're somewhere in the vicinity of fidgeting on Sam's chest.

"Oh. You got that right, McNally." Sam slides his hands to her ears and lowers his jaw to take a bite just south of her cheek.

Andy squeaks and _ums_ all about the place. Her fingers have started clutching on him...just like when she wants more -

(She can get pretty demanding in the bedroom too – especially when Sam teases things out. He likes seeing her flustered is something he's known ever since that day she stumbled her way into his life.)

Sam slides his hand in one foul swoop all the way to the fly on her jeans. He plucks at the buttons some, but then leaves the zip –

He steps back from her, teasing, and picks up the oil. "I might not be the only one with the problem here is the thing." Sam smirks at her, wondering about just how wet she might be.

(The two of them seriously _are_ like a pair of horny teenagers – it really doesn't take a lot for them to get one another off.)

Andy scowls at him – and then pokes out her tongue. "No. Here's the thing, Swarek: both of us know that you're hard right now...but only one of us knows if I'm wet."

And that there, ladies and gentleman, is about as forthright and cunning as Andy McNally has been _outside_ of the bedroom in all these weeks he has known. She's blushing a deep, pretty pink all over as she says it, but –

Well. There's something totally un-shy about the look on her face that Sam's never seen.

"I mean. I _could_ be." Andy stutters, fluttering her eyelashes at him. "Despite the shit day we all had – there was that truck ride home." (And – that's another thing...the ride home in the truck is always a hands on experience – for one, or both of them. They're both tactile in nature – that's for damn sure.)

Sam lowers his gaze as a movement catches his eye – it's McNally, and she's undoing her zip. The sound of the metal teeth opening echoes loud across the room, causing Sam's body to hum with an energy he didn't know he had left this afternoon.

"And then of course...there's the way you work in the kitchen..." Sam's not sure if McNally is _trying_ to put on a seductive voice, but it's sounding a little like she could be – at least to his ears. She gets even breathier as she dips the fingers of one hand down into her panties.

Sam sucks in his own sharp breath; his eyes bouncing between the action in the fabric of her pants and her face. "McNally..." he croaks out in a warning tone (sort of).

Andy leans back against the kitchen bench looking completely and utterly smug. "What." She swallows audibly – before her head thuds back against a cabinet (and she closes her eyes).

He watches her – just like that for a good few minutes. Carefully, quietly he inches his way into her space. He can hear his own heart thumping as he rolls his eyes across her face..and then the rest of the body.

She pops her eyes open when she feels his presence; her pupils are blown and her eyes gone stupidly dark. She licks her lips and then bites hard into the flesh at the bottom.

"How wet?" Sam doesn't even sound like himself, but he wants the answer anyway.

Andy nods vigorously and then opens her mouth. "It's insane."

"Is it 'cause you know how it makes me feel?" Sam wants to get his hand down there too; he wants to know exactly what she's doing…and he wants to be the main reason she comes.

She nods again, this time a little helplessly. "Yep.." she whimpers at him and then hisses as something hits right.

Sam clears his throat. "Andy…can I…do you want…" He is way beyond screwed. This woman fucks with his head and every part of his body like nothing or nobody else he's ever known.

She reaches out and takes one of his hands before he can string a proper sentence together. She works his hand to where her other one is and plies his fingers so they wrap around hers.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" he tells her hoarsely. For godsake, it's like he wants to cry. Sam feels everything: He feels how warm and tight and wet she is; feels how she works her thumb back and forth in gentle rolls around her clit…he feels how she moves her middle finger in and out of where he knows she's so, so soft and delicate. All of it just makes him want the both of them to come.

She puts her mouth up against his and licks her way in slowly; the motions matching what's going on inside of her…and inside his heart. She stroke her index finger the length of his middle finger as she kisses him harder – until he takes the hint and pushes it in alongside of hers.

He can't breathe then. He takes his mouth away from hers and sucks in some air. He digs his head between her neck and shoulder to watch what he knows is going to happen next.

Andy comes as they stroke her again and again gently; her pretty voice just telling him over and over again: _Sam._

He loves the way her body perks and bucks as she does it – and loves the last look she gets on her face. She smiles the smile that kills his heart and makes him look her straight in the eye.

Andy pulls her jeans and pants down enough to give them more room even as she keeps riding his hand. Sam has to grit his teeth as he watches and feels her turn herself until she gets her hands on the kitchen bench.

"McNally…" he warns her seriously. But it's too late and he's done for – the minute she pushes her ass back.

"I want you to make love to me like this." It's a demand from her. And –

It's the first time she's described it that way…with that word… and it makes everything inside of him lurch. If it wasn't for the animal need he's got just to take her, he'd bolt out the door.

Sam unzips himself with the hand that's not on her and quickly drops his jeans and pants just enough. He has to breathe slowly as he lines them up – especially with the way Andy is wiggling her ass.

"Now, Sam. Now," Andy instructs bossily as she works herself on to the head of his cock. "Want you. Now."

He breathes slower still as he rocks himself into her. Finally he manages to guide them both properly when he puts both his hands at her hips.

He wishes she was completely naked. He loves watching her like this from behind – almost as much as he loves watching her face. He takes one of his shaky hands off her hip briefly, just to brush her hair away from her neck. "And sexy," Sam moans to her. "You're off the richter scale sexy…especially when you get like this."

"You are," Andy retorts bluntly. "Jesus. Sam. Deeper…"

He bends from the waist and matches the arch of her back. As his chest touches her shoulders and his mouth reaches the back of her head he feels the pulse of her quicken and everything inside her constrict. "You're perfect," Sam strangles out of himself as he keeps his nose in her hair. "You're the only one…"

They come together as he says it - Sam having well and truly shocked himself. He doesn't know exactly what he was going to tell her then. But. There's a fair chance something dangerous was going to slip out.

Sam and Andy stay in that position for another three minutes or so. Sam thinks it could be a good thing she can't see his face.

"Let me cook you some dinner," Sam says eventually.

Andy turns in his arms and looks up at him. Finally, she breaks into a wide small. She tamps it down after a little while though, and turns back to shy. She nods her head and looks down at their feet…as she does so, she taps one toe onto his. "Um," Andy squeaks in a whisper. "And can I stay the night?"

Sam gets his arms around her and kisses the top of her head. He's freaking out just a little here – about anything and everything about him that might make her change her mind about him… Still –

Tonight he'll take the risk. "I'd really like that."


	8. Take Five

_A/N This scene takes place __**within Season 3, Episode 5**__ – after Andy and Sam leave Tommy's place (still donned in their party hats) – and before…well…before the next day when they have to rock up to shift (tired but still in deliriously good moods because of the bunch of sex they just had ;) This time around I've attempted it from Andy's POV._

_Thanks heaps to those of you taking the time to review, it makes my day that someone else out there gets a kick out of these things!_

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue **

* * *

She does take him home.

To his place.

(So he can sleep in his own bed in case any of her _other relatives decide to have a birthday_).

Andy brings the truck to a stop at the kerb. She glances across at his snoozing party-hatted form in the passenger seat. He looks _adorable_. Still -

She gives him a shove.

Sam mutters something that makes no sense and props his head upright to try and fathom where he is.

"You wanted to sleep in your own bed," Andy declares snottily, sticking her nose in the air.

Sam blinks a couple of times – no doubt trying to clear the fuzz in his brain. He eyes her cautiously from the position he's in. "Well, if _I'm_ home for the night. So is my truck."

He's teasing her, but it doesn't stop the annoyance from creeping into Andy's voice. "What. You're gonna make me _walk_ home?" She narrows her eyes at him, trying to hide some other things that have built up inside...maybe…nerves or a little something else that's been playing on her mind.

Sam's eyebrows go sky-high as his head cocks to the left. He trips over his words then, realizing –

"Andy...c'mon...I was joking..." he clears his throat and shakes his head at her, suddenly bemused. "I don't care _whose_ bed we're in as long as you're keeping me warm…. and letting me sleep." He smiles at her – testing.

Andy pouts and frowns and gives him an eyebrow in return. "What if I don't want to sleep?" she blurts without thinking of the implications...until Sam's expression dawns some things on her.

He looks her up and down with a heated sort of stare, but the trail of his eyes gets distracted by what's sitting on the centre console. "Well. I'd be happy to let you keep me _up_ all night, 'Nally."

(He calls her that once in a blue moon – mainly when she's got him too short of breath to strangle out the rest).

Andy likes the sound of it too - because of the hot memories it incites she supposes...in fact she can't stop her from body reacting right here and now...at the mere thought of the prospect he might touch her the next time he says any variation of her name.

Sam waggles his eyebrows and grins with a dimple, which –

Is definitely also not helping Andy to stay cross.

"But I suggest you feed me first." Sam points at the still uneaten apple flips that are peaking out from the paper bag that holds them.

She snatches them out of his reach before he can make a grab of his own. "Oh. I'll feed you alright...just not these."

Sam's eyes widen. Yep, that other little slip of the tongue has got him even more awake. A series of expressions cross his face as he appears to change his mind a few times on how to respond to Andy's slip of the tongue. He obviously decides against getting too dirty, too soon. Instead –

"How do you know what's in my pantry? You been snooping around in my stuff?" Which –

Okay. There was that one time when Andy couldn't help herself. (He was in the shower early and letting her 'sleep'…she opened and closed nearly every damn closet in his house searching for some answers. All she got was the confirmation that he is a stupidly neat breed of control freak).

She keeps her face poker even as she works through her guilt. "I brought you breakfast in bed at the crack of dawn three days ago…remember? That time you dragged me out of the house early…'cause of some _other_ emergency Jerry had?"

(Andy's pretty convinced Sam doesn't want to settle into any sort of domestic pattern…for as much as she tries. She has no freaking idea what it's about, but he just won't…._relax._)

Sam grins at Andy – quick and gone. "Oh. I _remember_, McNally. How could I forget what it is that makes me late."

(That would be Sam referring to chapter two of that morning; the way Andy went down on him while he tried to drink his juice).

Andy huffs out a breath and rolls her eyes at him. All this talk of the past is only serving to get her further and further on edge –

He smiles warmer at her then. "You, ah.." Sam clears his throat and hitches a thumb over his shoulder. "Wanna take this party inside?"

Andy tamps down the grin that threatens to overtake her face. She wants him to know that despite the fact he let her drag him over to her fathers…she's not finished with moving this relationship along yet. She takes the keys out of the ignition and climbs out of the truck silently, thinking of what the best thing might be to say.

Andy decides slow and steady is the best; God knows the guy really doesn't seem to cope with anything else. "Um. Thanks again for going with me to see my Dad." She moves to where Sam is on the footpath and continues to soften her demeanour – more so as he takes her by the hand.

"S'okay, McNally. Sorry I was a bit of a grump.." Sam stops them at the top of the stairwell and kisses her light on the lips.

(And. This is the thing with Sam: one minute he's too cool for school, and the next he's incredibly sweet…and charming…and totally hot. Andy actually worries that maybe that's why she's _so_ attracted to him; he's like some sort of wild adventure…or a challenge she might want to tame.)

"Yeah…and I guess going along is the least you could do," Andy grins at the edge of Sam's mouth and pokes her nose at his cheek. "'Specially since it was your fault I forgot."

(All damn day he had her distracted. Despite the hands off policy they have at work, the flirting was _heavy_ today – both of them stuck in booking and bored. And, it wasn't just the flirting: he made her coffees and kept her fuelled on snacks…and went and got her favourite burger for lunch. He also helped her with her paperwork and massaged her shoulders right at the end of the shift.

Andy was so gushy and loved up on his little efforts that she begged them both off from drinks at The Penny –

They barely made it through her front door when they did get home, but when they did she couldn't help but shove him up against it and take him then and there.)

Sam laughs real friendly at her as he keeps his mouth on her face. "My fault, huh?" He tugs her through his doorway finally and jostles her down the hall. "Lucky you don't have cameras in your place."

Andy's cheeks burn at the thought of what _would_ be caught on camera…if there were ever any around. Which –

Makes her stop in her tracks. They have, like…seriously… two photos of them together. Even then, one of them is in a group shot. The other was taken by Traci at The Penny…way back at their (proper) start.

Andy turns on her heel and shoves Sam backwards. "I wanna get a photo."

Sam scrunches up his eyebrows. "What…?"

Andy pulls the phone from her pocket and grabs Sam by an arm all in one sweeping movement. She wrestles them into a side hug position, extends her arm out, and then takes three quick shots.

The look on Sam's face is priceless, the image gallery representing; shocked, confused, and finally: highly amused. The stills of Andy don't fare much better, she looks something along the lines of annoyed and frustrated until the final one highlights a beaming lunatic smile.

She's definitely going to frame them all: Andy thinks they're somewhat of a perfect representation of this relationship to date…party hats and all.

Andy is pleased when she notes that Sam doesn't hate them – in fact, his face turns completely open and soft. "You're pretty," Sam says quietly, smiling at the pictures.

_Ugh._ The way that he says it has her heart off the charts. Andy's mood has done as many twists and turns as his have tonight. "We should capture more memories, you know." She bites her lip about all the things they've missed out on as a couple – and the stuff they haven't yet done. She..well…Sam means the world to her…and so she wants _all_ in.

Sam keeps an arm around her shoulder as he nods and then leans in to kiss her on the forehead. Everything between them going so, so quiet. Then –

Just like most other times, the direction changes tack.

"You wanna get some stuff on tape now, McNally?" Sam murmurs into her hair with a voice that suggests he's not talking about anything remotely squeaky clean.

Andy's jaw drops open and her eyes go very wide as she pulls back to take a good, long look at him.

"What?" Sam smirks at her and waggles his eyebrows. "It's not like it'd be the first time you got naked for me in front of your phone?"

(Oh. Oh. Yep: Andy's lack of inhibition in weeks past when it came to drinking and sexting. She can't believe she hasn't made him remove _those_ particular images from his phone.)

She doesn't have a lot of time to argue about how late it is and that they really should get some sleep. Sam hoists her up around her waist before she knows it and then yanks the phone from her hand.

…..

Andy giggles loud and sharp as he plants her on her feet in his bedroom. She doesn't want to admit it, but the thought of a potential audience watching them…well.

It does turn her on.

He holds her in position as his head swivels around looking for something…

"Pity we don't have a tripod," he tells her seriously. "But this will do." He walks a few steps toward his tallboy and then turns to view her through the lens.

Andy giggles again – this time nervously. "Surprised you even know how to work the thing."

Sam gives her a stern stare above the edge of the device. "McNally. Really? You think I can't work my own wire too?"

Andy blushes and scowls as she worries herself about his level of experience with…well…with _everything_. (Sure, it's a thing she finds hot most of the time…it's just…she wonders if she'll _ever_ have the upper hand).

Sam props the phone up with a variety of items, stabilising it until he's confident it will capture their pretend stage…

And then he presses a button Andy guesses is _record_.

…

Sam walks back to where she is….slowly. He stops just shy of her side and whispers hoarsely. "You okay with all of this?"

Andy looks in the direction of where the camera sits atop the dresser politely. Although she may be nervous, she is possibly more than okay. She's …she's intrigued about what they look like when they –

She licks her lips and clears her throat and then looks up at Sam. She smirks at him, teasing. "Assuming you're not going to share it with Oliver and Jerry…yeah, I'm okay."

Sam is deadly serious as he leans into her. He kisses at the top edge of her ear gently. "Only for us." He runs a hand down her front then to get at the hem of her shirt. "Besides," he teases back at her: "It's on _your_ phone."

Andy's stomach flips at the thought of visual evidence of their – well, of them…

Making love.

Now.

In this moment.

And what it might feel like when she looks back at the footage -

…with him

…or alone.

…

They take a long time to undress one another; their eyes raking over every inch of the others body as the quiet striptease takes place.

They don't move from the spot they're in, just shy of the bedroom door. (_Jesus,_ the light from the hallway will probably give them some sort of cliche effect.) The angle that they're at will get the camera a view of both of them from side on; Andy's not sure how much Sam zoomed the camera in, but she guesses it'll be enough to catch…some key things.

The pragmatics of the sex itself could get tricky; they're going to have to stay in the standing position – and if they want the most in terms of pleasure, Sam will have to be up to taking Andy's weight the whole time.

Sam doesn't seem to be in a rush to just…fuck her though. He keeps one warm hand on her hip and the other on her face.

They kiss long and languid and wet for a really long time… when they finally do come up for some air, Sam decides to start working his mouth down.

Andy closes her eyes as she concentrates on her breathing; the gentleness of his movements is, like. A stark contrast to any porn she's ever seen. She does her best not just to _take_; her hands moving across the cut of his shoulders and through his hair as he finally puts his mouth between her legs –

She has to clutch into his hair actually, what with the way his tongue works her over down there. Andy squeezes her eyes tighter when she feels herself drip onto him, everything inside and outside of her gone even more impossibly wet.

She opens her eyes when she remembers the recording; she wants the camera to see how good it all makes her feel. She breathes out in a gasp as she looks to it – his tongue having just skimmed from front to back. "_Sam_."

Sam works his way back up her on the instruction, keeping the hardness of his body right in close as he follows every one of her curves. When he's finally standing again, he keeps his eyes on her face and is breathless as he tells her: "I love how you taste".

One of Andy's hand drifts down to where he's the hardest on reflex. She pulls gently on him – just to feel him out. They're quieter than they've ever been (oddly enough), but Andy's head is swimming with noise.

It's only when Sam lifts Andy to slide her onto him that they both start to make some sound. He tells her a whole bunch of nonsense as he helps her to move up and down on his hips.

Andy can't resist but clench him with everything; as it is both of them have their fingers digging into one another everywhere. She can't form any words while it's happening but her moans and sighs are out of control.

The _feeling_ for her is the same but different – her thoughts occasionally clouded about how this must _look_. (She likes watching and looking at him _always_…but until now, she's not thought deeply about what _she_ looks like when she's making love…or when she's about to come.)

Andy marvels as she watches over him now; the way his strength is paying dividends. Every muscle in his body must be working at least double-time of hers. And, to top it off he's still paying attention to her face.

"Feels _so_ good, Sam," Andy manages to put together a coherent sentence or two eventually because he deserves all the credit for everything that's now tingling inside– all her nerves on their ends. "You feel good." She gets on a roll then, putting more effort into climbing her slippery body up and down to give more rigour to his strokes.

"Nally…" Sam's mouth tightens as his face goes helpless. "Let me watch you come."

Andy lets out a sob as she rocks her hips hard and down in two movements to try and take in his whole length. As she does the pressure inside of her builds and she feels the inside of her muscle around the entire hardness of Sam.

Andy thinks it's fair enough that he can't help but move them then; he shuffles them over just that extra foot so he can get her back against the wall.

"I'm serious about meeting your family," Andy tells him out of nowhere as he slows her movements down. "Want all of you." She'll blame it later on delirium if she has to, but if he's going to continue to make her feel like this, he'll just have to handle the truth –

"Okay," Sam chokes out as he gets his mouth on hers. "Whatever you want." It's desperate the way he says it - with a completely helpless edge. He digs into her harder and squares up to bite on her neck –

Andy gives them both what they want as he sinks his teeth in; scrabbling her fingers through his hair while she lets her body lose itself all over him – more than once.

It's hot and messy when it happens, both of them not knowing exactly where to put their mouths. He settles his on her neck as he thrusts himself into her another three times –

And then she yanks his head to watch him as he comes. Sam is _something else_. His face is a thousand and one things as he stares back at her before he ends with a shy boyish smile.

His pulse inside of her relaxes as he works to catch his breath by closing his eyes finally. "I..yeah…soon," he tells her quietly (Andy just assumes that means the family thing). Sam lifts her gently off him and helps slide her gently to stable ground.

He kisses her softly when she's down there and holds her tight around the waist. For sure they're both going to be stuffed for work later this morning…but in this moment, Andy doesn't care.

Andy grins up at him, teasing. "Yeah. Well remember I've got the agreement on tape."

Sam shakes his head and laughs and gives her another kiss for good measure. "Don't say you weren't warned."

Andy is entirely pleased with the promise though, and lets him tug her hand.

"I assume you had enough battery?" Sam gets his hand on the phone to inspect it and turn the thing off. He holds it out of her reach as she goes to take it from him, quirking an eyebrow up in suggestion. "World premiere tomorrow night?"

Andy gives him a high-beam smile as she does a mental check for any conflicting events. She nods in the affirmative when she ascertains the fact that no one else has a birthday this month. "It's a date."


	9. In Between

_A/N: Inspired by Vixenali...thanks for such a challenging prompt ;) This is something a little different for me...I decided to experiment, so I hope the style comes off okay. (It's quite possible I may come back and edit it further in the future - I just really had to set it free now so I can start thinking happier things again!_

**Takes place post 3.9, pre 3.10**. (Apparently there were 4 days between those two episodes, the last we saw was at the hospital when Jerry died...and then they were back to work and Andy was angling to get Sam to talk.)

Warning: Several splashes of the F-bomb ahead, Sam's just a bit...out of his depth, is all.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Rookie Blue**

* * *

**In Between**

* * *

"Hey," McNally's voice is a hoarse, shaky whisper puffing into the cold night air.

Sam looks her over once or twice. This woman that he –

This woman that he can't seem to _fit_ into a single one of his fucking compartments; especially not now.

He wasn't expecting her, not tonight. Not at his door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

(She bunkered down with Nash last night. He thinks she should be there now, consoling Jerry's –

Sam thinks McNally should still be with Nash.

He wasn't going to answer as it was. Alone on the couch in the dark with only unfamiliar images and voices emitting from the screen in front of Sam was his preferred state of being.

He answered after the second round of pounding.

Even then he only answered because he knew it was her.

And he knew she wouldn't leave it alone

Sam's only marginally surprised that she didn't just go ahead and use the spare key).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

McNally huddles into the depths of her coat, and wraps its puffy sleeves across her stomach. "You. Uh. You gonna let me in?" Her eyes are wide….watery….searching…

Sam can't help but stare straight at her.

The dim light of the hallway catches the lighter colours in her iris'.

Then -

He blinks.

Just once.

"Ah. Yeah. Yeah. Of course." He motions her into the hallway.

(One sweep of his hand).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

This. This part is familiar.

Her back's to him as she looks into the house. (Habit, Sam thinks. She _didn't_ do it the first time she was here. But, she's done it every time since).

The four fingers of each of his hands nudge gently into her lapels.

He tugs, no – he drags.

He drags the weight of the fabric to inch the coat off of her.

McNally pulls her arms out of the sleeves when it's time.

One.

Two.

She's got a couple more layers underneath; curve hugging thermals and tees – her standard fare.

She looks...beautiful. (Despite that sad fucking face).

For the first time in over 24 hours, Sam _feels_.

Not the intensity he normally...

Not the same way he usually gets when she's anywhere near him (or not near him – just in his brain).

But, still. _ Something_ is deifinitely there –

At least a few parts of his body don't feel so _numb_ anymore.

Sam tries to stifle the feeling.

He doesn't want any others making an appearance tonight.

Or tomorrow.

Or the day after that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

McNally swivels on a heel so her front is at an angle that faces his kitchen. It's always her first stop

(except when they can't wait….

when they can't wait to get one another onto his bed...

or his shower...

or his wall).

Her bottom lip is red and swollen. She's been biting it again.

Sam can almost see the imprints her teeth have made from here.

He feels his heart skip a beat.

He strangles his next breath and keeps his mouth shut.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

Sam turns away from McNally to hang up the coat. He brushes his hands down the length of it to feel the temperature it's at. It's not as cold as the times when she walks –

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

"Traci loaned me her car," McNally informs him, but soft…like she thinks Sam might break. "I…I really wanted to see how you were…"

He listens to the way her breath hitches before what comes next.

"You weren't answering your phone."

Sam turns again, this time to face the direction she's headed in. He points his approval. "You want something to drink?"

(He drank so much last night when he got home, he passed out without feeling the pain. Which –

Was his intention.

He hasn't started tonight yet. The session last night worked wonders on shoving at thoughts so they were way, way, way back.

Way back, where everything else dark is kept.

Today, until now, has been comfortably numb.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

"Yeah. Yep. That'd be…that'd be good." McNally nods her pretty head over and over again.

He hates that she's nervous around him. He hates that he's done that to her.

He hates that he can't figure out how to make things different–

For her.

For himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

McNally sits on her stool and rubs an index finger into the bench. "I…I'm sorry I wasn't with you last night, Sam."

The way she says his fucking _name_...

It's like a suckerpunch to his chest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

He places two tumblers in front of him (the other side of the bench from her). He pours the scotch - no rocks, no nothing.

Not tonight. (Maybe never again).

Sam slides one glass across to her carefully; the sound it makes is the only one in the room.

When McNally goes to hold it, he leaves his fingers there.

He watches as the tips of hers and his connect – and he closes his eyes.

Just for a second.

Just to make sure she's still warm.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

"I know." Sam assures her quietly. "Where's Nash now?"

McNally runs her bottom lip through her teeth. "Still at mine. Told her I'd be back soon."

He knows that too. So -

Sam nods slowly and tries to turn at least one edge of his mouth up to confirm for her that she's doing the right thing.

He looks down at their hands and sees the fingers still connected.

McNally looks down too.

"Sam…"

"S'okay, Andy. I'm fine. I'll be fine…" Sam takes his hand off her glass – just gradual.

He picks his own up.

And swills every drop of liquid that's in there.

~~~~~~~~~~~...

Sam doesn't watch her watching him.

He just knows she is.

He catches the movement of her hand out of the corner of his eye.

She skulls her drink too.

~~~~~~~~~~~...

McNally slips herself off the bar stool carefully.

And then slowly, slowly, _slowly –_

She makes her way around to him.

~~~~~~~~~~...

When she gets to his side she puts her hand on his wrist. "Talk to me, Sam…please."

Sam feels his chest constrict.

He finally feels the burn in his throat.

~~~~~~~~~~~...

He would talk to her.

If he could.

If he knew where to start.

But then he knows there's another problem.

If he does start….

McNally's tenacious. She'll want him to tell her _every damn thing_.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

Her fingers are tight on him now, and he can hear her breathing –

He can practically taste her scent.

And. It's a moment of weakness, he knows it –

But, it's _McNally_.

And despite all the things he shouldn't give to himself –

He's _always_ –

_Always -_

_wanted _her.

Always.

He knows it's selfish and despicable, but if just for tonight..

He can feel something different to numb….

And something that's not pain...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

Sam shifts his feet and then the rest of his body and he leans his face into hers. "I don't want to talk."

It's barely a mutter out of him but it still catches her off guard.

One delicate hand of hers goes up to his shoulder –

The other still holds his wrist.

McNally breathes out his name. Again. "Sam.."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

He can't help but kiss her.

(Can't help but want to stop whatever it is that she's going to tell him he should or shouldn't do).

He searches his way into her gently, slowly, at first… because he wants her to respond the same way.

Sam knows she loves the way he does this.

(Every single time he gets her moaning into his mouth).

He pushes out of his brain the fact that she's just giving in.

He stops himself from thinking about all the things she'd do – just because she wanted to do it for him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

Sam jostles his wrist inside of hers even as she keeps her tongue on his. When she lets go of his hand eventually, he wraps his palm around her fingers to bring her along –

The walk down the hallway is silent, except for the occasional scuff of McNally's boots on the wood.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

When he sits her on the bed, she's wide-eyed and curious; some beautiful fucking creature that's fallen prey to the worlds' biggest jerk.

Sam kneels down on the floor in front of her and unzips her boots. He puts his hands inside the leather and feels out her calves. He presses his thumbs into the muscles there, and strokes them all the way down.

(He's got a thing for McNally's legs, Sam has.

He got a thing for McNally's...

_Everything_).

He takes his time in pulling them off her.

All the while he lets McNally's trembling fingers scratch patterns into his shoulders and sift through his hair.

He reaches up to pop the buttons on her jeans when he's finished. Then, when he lets go of her zip, he puts his arms up and makes it easier for her to get his shirt off.

Sam crouches back to get her jeans off. He still wants to be down here, looking up at her – letting her feel like she's in some sort of control.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

The jeans are tight. As usual. They make him take things inch by inch – all the way to the ground.

When he looks back up, Sam smiles small. (It feels unfamiliar to do it. Then again, it has been two days).

The reason for the lapse in facial control:

McNally has taken her own shirt off. (She always manages to get a little impatient – no matter how fast or slow they go).

She smiles back at him. It's not the smile she gives when she's all the way happy, but it is a smile that he's pretty sure is meant to let him know everything's okay.

He trawls his eyes all the way over her almost naked form.

He feels himself go from three quarters there to all the way hard…just thinking about what it means to take this woman's underwear off. (That, and the fact that it's been over 48 hours since he's been inside of her. Yeah – was never going to take long once he gave in -)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

Andy leans back on one hand and with the other she brushes her hair over her shoulder and away from her face.

Sam has to shut his eyes again for a second, afraid that just by looking at her do that for him she'll bring him undone.

He opens them up again when he feels her nudge his shoulder with her foot. "What do you want? Tell me what you want?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

Sam _almost_ fucking laughs.

_What does he want?_

_Jesus._

In which second of any moment is she even referring to?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

Instead of laughing though, he takes the couple of steps on his knees until his chest is nestled all the way between her legs.

He reaches his hands under her waist and drags her the rest of the way to the edge.

The bed's the right height for this.

They've done it plenty before.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

Sam puts his open mouth straight on her.

He listens to McNally as she sucks in a sharp breath of air.

He runs the flat of his tongue over the crotch of her panties; tiny, little lace and silk things that they are. (He wonders if she came fully aware and prepared for what they're about to do.)

He lets himself taste her, just like that.

Just for a while.

He buries his face into McNally as she gets soaking wet.

Sam loves –

Her like this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

She's never been real shy about putting her legs over his shoulder.

Tonight's no exception, more so in fact. (Those colt like hips bucking into him to make sure he gets all the spots).

He shoves his fingers into the fabric to pull it to one side and lick his way into her –

As much as he can.

Sam feels her heels slide up and down the sides of his back as she gets more and more worked up; feels the insides of her smooth, smooth thighs goosebump as she starts to clench and wants to come.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

She pants her way through the first one quietly.

Too quiet.

It almost doesn't sound like her.

He sucks at her gently as she does it,

Finally, he elicits the McNally-style_ groan_ that he wanted to hear.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

When he looks back up at her she's flat on her back; her arms stretched upward and her hands in her hair. He can see her breathing, deep. In and out. "Sam..." is a whisper to the ceiling this time.

It's then that Sam decides he wants _everything_.

Wants every piece of her.

(Well, at least for tonight.)

Because right in this moment, there's nothing to consider, fear, or hide from –

It's just the two of them.

In synch.

(Like they _don't_ seem to be some other times).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

He unwraps her legs from around his neck and shoulders carefully, and gently plants her feet back on the floor.

He moves back on his haunches so it gives him room to peel her underwear all the way off.

His eyes flicker between where his hands travel and the other parts of her. Sam loses his breath several times – it truly is the prettiest, prettiest view.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

McNally by now is reaching for him; she does a single ab-crunch to get herself face-to-face with Sam.

She gets her hands on his cheeks and her mouth on his, and she kisses him –

Hard.

And desperate.

The gesture ignites a few more ends of Sam's nerves.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

Her hands travel south; smooth and fast to unzip him.

When she gets her bony fingers into his boxers, Sam can't help the sound that he makes.

McNally wraps one hand around him firm – and keeps it there...

Excruciatingly still.

Sam thinks he might explode if one or the other of them doesn't move the fuck soon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

His hips jerk forward – just a centimetre,

Mainly because he wants her hand on more of him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

Sam shoves at the waist of his jeans and manages to shunt the heavy weight of those to the floor along with his boxers.

Normally by now one of them would be telling the other to do or be...

But. He can't bring himself to say...

Anything.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

He puts his hand over hers and looks into her doe-eyes.

She's questioning what he wants next –

Without a doubt.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

Sam slides their hands all the way over his cock until he's free of the grip.

And then, finally, he gets to his feet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

He bends at the waist and wraps his arms behind her so he can get them both further onto the bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

McNally's heart is thumping rabbit-fast against him, and all of a sudden he feels the rest of the way alive.

He squeezes her body into his; a parallel bear hug that has his arms wrapped all the way around her shoulders and his face in the crook of her neck.

And, as always –

McNally gives as good as she gets.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

Sam feels her arms muscle around his ribcage and her legs wrap monkey tight in the same vicinity; the angle she gets them practically has him sliding straight in.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

He bites into her neck gently and leaves his tongue there.

"Harder." McNally croaks at him. "If…if you want."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

Sam does bite harder; this time just near her collarbone where she's let him before.

As he does it, McNally gets her hand back on his cock and guides him into her – just the tip.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

They still there for the longest of moments, both of them panting out like they've just done a sprint.

"Whatever….whatever you want." Andy's voice is only a tremor, the words barely making their way out.

Except for the _want_.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

Sam _still _hasn't looked at her in all these minutes; his face remaining in her neck the whole time.

Andy unclenches for a second to slide herself along his length. "Sam…"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

He takes the instruction then; blindly finds where he needs to be and works his way in.

He exhales slowly as he pushes, taking enough time to let her softness make it feel like he's going to shatter inside.

The noise he makes as he reaches as far as he can is like some wounded animal; it's dark and uncontrolled –

And in direct contrast to hers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

McNally breathes circular, pretty sighs every time before she inhales.

The noise she's making actually has the potential to drive him insane; this wanting, giving, whine that he's already intoxicated by.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

Sam tries blocking her out for a while, but it just doesn't work – (every part of her wrapped around every part of him).

He thrusts his hips into her harder then to see what she will do.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

McNally pushes back.

She clenches onto him hard and tight, rolls her knees into his hips and rocks her hips all the way up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

He peers up at her finally and that's when he sees her. Really sees her.

The _way_ she's looking back at him. "Sam…"

That's when he splinters: every fucking thing crumpling and turning to white in his brain.

Sam clutches at her shoulders and pulls his hips back so he can drive into her as hard as he can.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

Andy makes a grab for his chin as he does it, making sure that his face stays at the right angle and she can watch him fall apart.

Sam can do nothing but let himself go; this terrifying and exhilarating freefall where at the very end he finds his relief.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

McNally keeps rocking her hips to help him through it, and her eyes –

Her fucking eyes.

They'll be the death of him –

"I….Andy," Sam chokes out to her.

They're the only words he'll say to her for the rest of the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

He falls on top of her eventually, as gently as he can.

When he's down there, he kisses her soft on the lips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

After minutes and minutes that feel like hours Sam clears his throat, trying to get some form of lubrication back into there.

He rolls them over steady and careful until she's on top of him.

McNally's liquid and languid and all those muscles of hers have gone impossibly soft.

She kisses him light on the mouth as Sam feels himself drift to a sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

He hears her hours later – just before what he thinks might turn to dawn.

"Sam…I really gotta go, okay? I…gotta go." McNally shakes him real, real light on the shoulder.

Sam keeps his eyes shut.

She bends to kiss him one last time. "I'll call you later," her voice is soft and tender – it's got this real protective edge.

It flips Sam's stomach and screws with his head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...

He listens to the door click shut and opens his eyes to look at the gap that Andy's left.

Sam prays to whatever the fuck that's up there... that he'll turn numb again.


	10. The Irony of Today

_A/N Okay! So this is most likely the final in this series, so it's being marked complete._

_I just wanted to say a big, big, big thank you to all of you for reading, and special ones to all those that have taken the time to review. You're support and encouragement has definitely spurred things on. I think I still owe a couple of people their prompts, but as they are more AU etc, they will be published as different stories – so…keep an eye out for those in coming months._

_This one is for RB_ANON/Rookie Blue Support over on Twitter, who reminded me of the poignancy of Sam/Andy and the back of the truck (you know the one…won't get rid of me without a fight. Sam, Sam, Sam…just work through your issues, okay?) I rewatched the whole ep tonight and this piece literally just tumbled out. It turned a little darker than I thought it would when I first set out…but…it's probably a consequence of that episode. Holy geez, so much….heartbreak in town. Anyway, anyway, it's also a happy Christmas dedication to everyone that's reviewed any of the scenes of this story, with a very, very special thanks to: enits3, Lissa13, evelinav, vixenali, and meliecom for their relentless and enduring pats on the back. (There are at least a couple of guests out there too who also deserve a big hug). ;-D_

_Without any further gushing though, what follows is a tag to 'Messy Houses' (3.5)._

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue**

* * *

Sam's eyes scan the length of McNally's stretched out form. He'd lie down beside her, but for the fact they're right out the front of Division 15, and –

Well. They've already been close to sprung just outside the precinct more than one time.

(Frank gave them death glares just last night; a giggling Andy wedged between Sam and his truck as they discussed where to next. Possibly Sam's mouth on McNally's neck didn't help her memory re Tommy's birthday).

Sam catches sight of Ollie's retreating figure this go around. He expects nothing less than a Shaw wisecrack about Sam and Andy perched in the bed of the truck. Instead, Oliver looks like he's had a rough day at work too -

"Okay there, buddy?" Sam calls out as he feels McNally's fingers reach into the belt loops of his jeans.

Ollie simply raises a hand in salute and gives Sam an upward turn of one corner of his mouth. "Yeah. Yep, Sammy." Shaw casts his eyes in the direction of the pointy knees that are now digging into Sam's ribs. "You two kids go home and play nice," Ollie instructs gently – then keeps a slow pace until he reaches his car.

Sam bites inside the flesh of his cheek sharply. He doesn't even know, it's just _something_ in Ollie's tone –

Still. Sam figures Shaw will hassle him with the details tomorrow when he's in the right mood.

Sam re-focuses his attention on the resting beauty beside him; he _should_ probably insist that she talks this Claire crap through. But, Sam knows what it's like not to want to dredge up the past so, he's fine with taking her lead on what she does and doesn't want to say about her mother right now.

Sam slides the palm of his hand down the back of McNally's jean-clad calf. "We can do somethin' else if you like?" He wants to make her happy here is the thing, it was killing him today every time he looked at her face and saw what a young Andy must've gone through. He grins so she can hear it in his voice; "Dinner. Ice-cream. Beers. Your choice."

Andy locks a hand partway around Sam's bicep, from there she inches her way to upright. She dumps her legs over the tail of the truck and puts her head on Sam's shoulder – a gesture that still manages to make Sam's stomach flip a few times. "Ice-cream. Your place. You," McNally whispers in response eventually.

And, yeah. Sam's heart does skip a beat.

"Just us tonight," Andy reiterates quietly, turning her face to rub her pointy nose in the crook of his neck.

Sam turns enough just to kiss at her lips gently. "You got it, sweetheart."

* * *

The ride to his is quiet; McNally does none of the incessant chattering Sam usually loves about her. He breathes in and out a couple of times slowly to keep his mind wandering into territory that he shouldn't just yet –

(Sam's out of his depth in this thing is what he realizes; never before has he wanted to _give_ so much, but at the same time be so terrified of doing just that).

McNally is still deep in thought when Sam pulls over to pick up the frozen treats. "Cookies and Cream or Chocolate this time?"

Andy looks over and smiles a little bigger than at any other point today. "Surprise me."

* * *

Both Sam gets her.

And another three types.

(Just wants her _happy_, is all.)

Stocked up, he turns the ignition to start the truck again – and feels his flesh goose bump when the tips of McNally's fingers run through the hair on his neck.

* * *

Her mood definitely perks up when they get through the front door and into his kitchen finally.

"Aw, Sam," McNally giggles as she fossicks through the bag full of ice-cream. "You are… _sweet_."

Andy bounces over a little more like herself to where he's standing and pushes up on her toes. She peppers his face with a series of unruly kisses and then makes a grab for his cheeks. "Let's eat it in bed," McNally whispers conspiratorially. "Let's mess up your sheets."

The waggle of her eyebrows makes Sam laugh out loud; a noise he realizes often prompts McNally to laugh back. They stand there near the kitchen bench just gaping at one another, until Andy makes another bold move.

She reaches into the top drawer like she's all covert; doesn't even bother to glance her eyes down. She picks up a single dessert spoon –

And then tries to balance it on Sam's nose.

He shakes his head because he can't help it; they both use humour occasionally it turns out – instead of saying things that should be said.

Sam gives McNally a playful smack on the ass for her efforts as she bends to pick up the spoon.

When she's upright he puts an arm around her shoulders, and jostles her and her frosty goods off to his room.

* * *

McNally's not wearing a single stitch when Sam comes out of the bathroom just a little while after instructing her: "Don't start without me."

She has started though; the open tub of Cotton Candy is precariously resting atop one of her bony knees. The further evidence against her is the way she's got the spoon in her mouth. "What?" McNally slurps around it, her pretty lips gone all purple with the pink.

Once again, Sam can only muster the brainpower just to shake his head. It is after all –

Quite the view he's got from here.

McNally pats the space beside her and smiles at Sam as she swallows. "C'mere."

* * *

Sam only has one scoop; the icy stuff so sweet it gives him tingles behind the eyes. He feeds McNally about five spoons amidst her flirting laughter – before she tries to feed him another one.

As he scrunches and screws his nose up, McNally wrestles her way over the top of him and dismisses the carton to the bedside table – along with the spoon.

Sam blinks his eyes open and peers up at her, well – what he can see.

The way she's hovering over the top of him has her breasts right in his face. Sam puts his mouth around one of her nipples on instinct, which –

Makes Andy shriek.

McNally's wiggling in his lap and pulling backwards as she clutches at his shoulders. "Cold, Sam! Cold!"

Well –

Sam can't help but suck in response.

As he does so, his hand runs the length of the curve that rolls from her hip to her waist all the way to cup under her other breast. He uses some teeth as he feels out how soft she is there, and nips harder when she starts to sigh and rock herself down.

"God. Okay, okay," McNally chokes out between some gulps for air. "Um, yeah."

Sam smiles into her as he runs a thumb over her exposed nipple and feels it pebble all the way erect. "Not like you to be at a loss for words, McNally," Sam murmurs against her – just before his other hand gets to work.

The way Andy's hovering over the top of him gives him easy access in terms of tracing his fingers up the inside of her thigh. He gets two tips and touches to feel how wet she is, and he gets his answer with an impatient moan from McNally -

And her fucking _herself_ onto his fingers without a second thought.

"Shut up," she hisses at Sam as though what he said was only a second ago. "Already told you once tonight – don't wanna talk." She half growls as she says it; almost like her moods back to frustrated and angry again.

It takes Sam aback a little, actually – how rough she works her way through orgasm number one. It doesn't take her long to get there - her body grinding on his palm and her hand grappling for his thumb to press into her clit. He'd be worried about her if it weren't for the fact he was so turned on.

She's pulled herself back onto her haunches and has got her legs wide, wide open and her breasts pushed all the way out. Her head is flung back to the point where all Sam can do is stare at that pretty, long neck and feel the swoosh of her hair against his thighs.

She's clutching Sam's wrist _tight_ as she loses herself, and he freaks for a second thinking he might hurt her with the way she's angling to get more of his fingers inside.

* * *

"Fuck." McNally lets out a single, angry sob. She doesn't use the word to curse, usually – but this one definitely is. "Hate her, Sam."

Sam _shh-shh_'s Andy softly and gently rubs a hand down her back. He's feeling a little heartbroken for her at the moment, and has no idea what else to do –

He doesn't want to tell her that _it's okay_, or any _I knows_, because probably he doesn't –

So. He just nods his head. "Anything…anything I can do…" Sam croaks out eventually as he pulls his fingers out steady and slow.

McNally gives a whip of a laugh as she dumps her weight on to him and gets them chest-to-chest. She kisses him hot and loose on the mouth and then gives him a command that's got an edge of pleading: "Fuck me again."

* * *

Sam feels the pump of Andy's lion-heart against his own as he does it; he's hard as all hell but wants to be cautious because of how _sensitive_ she is right now.

"I got you, sweetheart…" he tells her soft and quiet as he stays sprawled out beneath her and works his way inside her from below.

Sam sucks in a whole heap of air as he fills her entirely – then he lets Andy set the pace.

She moves on him like melancholy for what feels like hours and hours. It's a stark contrast to the frenzy she whipped them into earlier tonight.

He puts his hands on her hips carefully when he feels them stutter and goes about the task of guiding her home again and again.

Sam tries to absorb her pain and anger, he does. He kisses her softly every time she lets out a sound. A swelling in his chest grows and grows for McNally – it feels like it will detonate inside him as she loses herself all over him again.

"Come inside me…please, Sam," Andy begs him as she gasps for some air on her own way down.

Then he feels the way she slips and clenches onto him (and the _look_ on her face) –

And so Sam does.

She kisses at his jaw as he bucks through it; his body all restless and every wire come loose. "Andy…" Sam tells her helplessly – and just like he wants to say something else.

_Hmhm_ she whispers at him, "I got you too."

* * *

When it's over she moves far enough off him to make sure he doesn't suffocate in his sleep. He keeps her close, close though – keeps her tucked right into his side.

McNally pats a hand blindly over Sam's face as she kisses his shoulder. "Thanks for my ice-cream…and stuff." For sure the fact she's not looking at him now means she's gone a little way shy. Embarrassed maybe, that she's not as put together as she thought -

Sam grins, but's it not his happiest. "No problem at all." He turns his face and kisses into McNally's vanilla-scented hair. He breathes her in and squeezes her gently. "Night, sweetheart."

"Night.." Andy says around a yawn as her face tucks further and further into Sam's neck.

* * *

Sam looks into the dark of the room and tries not to think.

If Sam thought about anything except for Andy right now, it would probably be the anger he's got brewing on Claire.

He doesn't want to go there yet though, doesn't want to think about his automatic distrust. He really only wants Andy to feel safe and secure right now.

(Fuck. To hell with it, he's even gonna call Jerry in the morning and tell him they're catch-up will have to wait.)

As Sam kisses Andy's head goodnight one last time for good measure, he decides to let her sleep in in the morning – he'll even call Frank if she needs and tell the boss they'll be late. He's gonna make her coffee and pancakes, and he's gonna wash her hair and scrub her back.

And, Sam's gonna give Andy McNally any other damn thing that she wants.

* * *

_Fin._


	11. Looking Counter Clockwise

_A/N Re-opening this fic for a few extra chapters (including this one). Apparently there were a few other behind the scenes moments that needed to be investigated. This is one of them. Could be that it's the smuttiest of the lot of them...but there are feelings! I promise... Control-related ones ;) Thanks to RB_Anon, Lissa, and RB_Phan and other suspects on the Twittersphere for inspiring this one along..._

_It's a tag to 4.4...shortly after Sam hands Andy the keys to his truck. _

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue (or anything to do with The Motels)**

* * *

By the time Andy's pulled the truck into The Penny's parking lot, she's wondering if facing up to another round of alcohol is a very good idea. She bites her tongue though. Andy does not want Sam gloating in any way, shape or form.

"Everything okay over there, McNally?" Sam asks with a shit-eating grin on his face.

(The guy can seriously, seriously read every thought in her head, Andy swears).

Andy does a half-roll of her eyes and then tries on her most nonchalant type of look. "Why wouldn't it be?"

Sam runs his tongue along the bottom edge of his top teeth. The damn dimples are still on full display. "Why wouldn't it be, indeed?" He unclicks his seatbelt and pulls his mouth into a smirk. "Well, come on then. No doubt Depstein is chompin' at the bit for some action…that is, unless they were there last night too."

Andy rolls her eyes all the way this time. She's wondering whether maybe she should've made Sam take her home…tell him she had bad period pain. Only, no –

That wouldn't have cut it. She's fairly well clockwork, and Sam knows her body better than she does…so it seems.

Andy gets out of the truck with a small wince and groan. She hadn't been feeling the effects of last night for the past several hours, possibly because of the adrenalin pumping through her veins. Andy is a serious police officer after all; she will do her job no matter how not so well she might be on any given day.

* * *

When they do get inside The Penny they're met with three faces: Dov, Chris, and Oliver.

Oliver raises his eyebrows all high and whistles. "You've got more fortitude than I ever gave you credit for McNally."

Chris laughs loud - bright and goofy. "Yeah, Andy. You know you could've just done what Gail did. Pretend she was going to dinner with her mom, but then make Collins take her home to bed..." The sentence dies in thin air as a glazed look washes over his face.

Dov bumps Chris with an elbow in consolation, and then clears his throat – an entirely serious expression on his face as he turns to Andy and Sam. "Looks like it's just us tonight…can I buy you both a drink?" For all the world, Dov is still looking a little shell-shocked from his recent experience, he's just not the same Dov right now.

Sam chews the inside of his cheek, considering. Normally, of course Sam would make fun of the rookies, but Andy saw the way he looked at Dov with genuine empathy this morning. Eventually he tilts his head to the bar. "How 'bout I get this round Epstein?" Sam smiles small at Dov. "Can you, ah…help with the carrying though?"

Andy blinks a couple of times and releases Sam's hand.

"Um." Andy catches Sam by the elbow when she comes to her senses. "I might…I might just have a lemonade."

Sam smirks back at her knowingly. "Too late for hair of the dog, huh?"

* * *

Andy watches them over at the bar; can't take her eyes off Sam is actually what her problem is here. Not much is said at all by the looks of it, but there's some kind of interaction while they're waiting for drinks. Dov nods his head at the end of it, and gives a half smile to Sam.

* * *

Andy leans into Sam, just a little, when he sits back down. She'd be annoyed with the way he planted the _jug_ of lemonade and a glass with ice very carefully in front of her, except –

Well, except he smells too good.

She does give him a small scowl however when he pops a couple of white pills her way. She scowls at the others too when they laugh – especially Oliver;

Who just tossed a whole foil tray of the things across the table at her like they were poker chips; "Might need some spares."

* * *

They only stay there a half hour or so, what with Andy not being able to focus on the conversation as it is. She thinks they might be talking about boy stuff anyway, but really she has no idea.

It's not like it's a complete chore just sitting there though. For starters, Sam has let her tuck herself right into his side. Also: he's threading his fingers through her ponytail every so often – only stopping intermittently to massage under it, and at the base of her skull.

Andy has to work very, very hard on several occasions not to groan out loud. Instead, she just rests her head on his shoulder instead and stares into the lemonade that has hardly been touched.

She does occasionally munch on the fries Sam brought her though; the crispy, salty goodness managing to work against the vacuous space in her stomach that she's been arguing with all day.

* * *

Sam practically has to lift Andy to get them out of there; how she's practically ended up on his lap by the tail end of the animated conversation between Oliver and Chris.

(Sam's probably going to give her hell in the truck ride home about the way she started purring at him – Andy hopes like hell, the others couldn't hear.)

* * *

"You, ah. You want me to tuck you in too?" Sam says with the same smirk he's had on all afternoon when he gets her through his front door. (Piggy-backed from the truck, for God's sake. Andy feels about 12, but then with the way Sam's looking at her…she most certainly does not).

Andy's brain is even foggier than before – hangover, tiredness, Sam…she doesn't even know what is affecting what anymore.

"Drink some water, take some more pills," Sam instructs as he pushes her back against the closed door and kisses her cheek. "Then I'll take you to bed."

Andy musters some brain-power and memory to snort at him. "See. Bossy. TO that's never switched off," she tells him, remembering why she was so annoyed with him earlier today.

Sam doesn't take the bait this time. He just keeps smirking, and his eyes go insanely dark. He lifts her just enough so she's at eye-level – his hips holding her in place. "Yeah, well right about now, I'd say you need to be told what to do."

Andy all of a sudden feels the most awake she has all day. She swallows the hard lump in her throat and works through the constriction in her chest just to breathe. They stay in that position for what feels like an eternity, Andy breathing hard by now – and right in Sam's face. His mouth is only an inch from hers and she wants to taste him, but by the look in his eyes, he's not about to give even that.

"_Sometimes_," Sam tells her very quietly, each word its very own sentence: "You need to be told what to do."

Andy opens her mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. She considers the fact he's stated…her simple conclusion is: that Sam could be right…especially when it's him giving the instructions and orders and stuff.

So, with that in mind… Andy closes her eyes and nods.

Andy really hopes that's enough for him to lift her the rest of the way around his hips and thrust, but apparently it's not.

Instead, Sam drops Andy to plant her feet on the ground gently, his whole body moving in to wedge her between the door and him. He catches her by the hands because he obviously knows she's angling to get them back around his neck, and then laces their fingers together tight...before he gets his mouth right up to her ear. "Water first. You're gonna need it."

Every single nerve in Andy's body is like a live wire now.

* * *

Sam watches Andy as she skulls the water, and she watches him right back. At the end of it, she wipes her mouth with a sleeve – like she's on a commercial for beer, or something of the sort.

She leans across the kitchen bench with a cheeky smirk on her face. Andy likes pushing Sam's buttons she does, even when she thinks he's under control. "Anything else you wanted to watch me do?" Andy is attempting her best seductress voice, but it comes out sounding truly ridiculous – like maybe she's been watching too much daytime TV.

Sam smiles with one corner of his mouth – barely. "Yep," he tells her simply – the word like a bullet from his mouth.

It hits Andy hard in the chest, her heart skipping a beat or two. Without doubt, there is an edge to Sam that is dark and dangerous…in a very good way. Andy feels her insides go liquid and warm – as though they've just melted from the heat of his gaze.

He moves around to her slowly and stands behind her leaning form – his groin impossibly close to her ass. Andy wonders whether he's just going to take her like this. (She really wouldn't mind, like. _At all_). To test her theory, she wiggles her ass backward and right into him, which –

Is practically like hitting a brick wall. He doesn't move a damned inch, doesn't respond. But –

He is already excruciatingly hard. Which –

Andy would respond to under normal circumstances by trying to make it impossible for him not to thrust into her. But she's working with some of her own problems here. For starters, feeling him like that has left her light-headed and out of breath. There's not a lot she can do except let the swirl in her stomach settle itself into some place further down. As it does, a tiny breath of air escapes Andy's mouth, causing a sigh-like sound to come out.

The next thing she feels is Sam's fingers back in her ponytail, scooping through the weight of it before he reaches in the third go around to pull at the tie until her hair hangs loose.

Andy shakes her head as a reflex, just so the tresses fall into place.

"Stand up," Sam instructs – so quiet Andy wonders whether he meant to say it at all.

She does though - carefully and slowly – until the length of her is stretched out and up the length of Sam. At the height difference, her shoulder blades tuck into his upper chest; she can feel the thump of his heart beat and vibrate against her spine. Andy closes her eyes to focus on her own breathing, intoxicated by how steady he feels – every hard muscle of his front fixed and firm against every muscle of her back.

Andy sucks in a sharp gasp of air when she feels Sam's mouth at her neck. His hand has gently sifted her hair far enough across her shoulder to expose a fair chunk of the delicate flesh. His mouth is hot and wet on her, and his tongue and teeth are sinking far enough into her skin to make it shiver and goose bump in places beyond her neck.

"Undo your jeans," is what Sam's got for her next. His voice is teetering between gentle and demanding.

Andy swallows. She wants to tell him '_you_'…but even though her mouth is open, _nothing_ aside her struggles for air will come out. In the end she does it, her fingers trembling as she pops the buttons of the fly as best as she can.

Sam isn't short of things to do as she does it though - his left hand sliding up inside her shirt, massaging at her stomach, abs and ribs before it settles on top of the right cup of her bra.

Andy feels the pebble of her nipple before he skims his thumb inside.

In her head she's talking to him. But even then, it's a cacophony of nonsense that is mainly prissy demands. (_Okay, Sam. You can just fuck me already, please_…being one of them). He was right about water before hand though…in all honesty, Andy could probably do with some more now.

There isn't the time for it though, Sam having just put the fingers of his right hand under the top elastic of her pants and slid them all the way down.

The gasp out of Andy's mouth as his palm skims her clit sends shockwaves through her whole body. She bucks back at him in an effort to get the friction she needs, but Sam simply lightens his touch to a tease that has Andy whining real loud.

Her own hands have gone restless on his forearms - her fingers fidgeting the length of him there as she feels his muscles working her over delicately.

"How's your head now?" Sam asks with a smirk against Andy's ear, his voice at a low whisper. The jerk is still somehow managing to keep his emotions in check – despite how hard he still up against her behind.

"Shut up," Andy scowls – but then attempts to twist her mouth to get a kiss at him. (Maybe distract him long enough to fuck herself onto his callused fingers and get what she's after).

"Uh-uh." Sam pauses his whole hand over the top of her down there, while the other hand tweaks some fingers at a nipple. "Did I say you could do that?"

Andy grunts - frustrated. "God. Sam. C'mon. I need to come. We can go slow later… when you get me into bed…." She has no idea where or how the sentence has been formed. Out of desperation probably. It's a muddle of words though - all thick and sticky like other parts of her.

Sam chokes out a quiet laugh and shunts his hips at the back of hers, friendly. "Can we now?" he asks, evidently highly amused by Andy's situation here.

That just serves to get Andy even more annoyed…which is –

Kind of hot.

Her whole body is scorching actually - Sam's hands spreading a wildfire through her most sensitive parts.

"Put your hands over mine," he tells her out of nowhere, his body gone mind-numbingly still.

Andy does as he says. But only because she can't see any other way that he's going to let her come.

The hand he has on her breast is tangled all the way under her bra now, meaning that their two hands together are restricted in movement. It's something else though – not being able to see his face properly while they touch her like this.

Andy hooks her fingertips between Sam's knuckles and lays her palm flat over the back of his hand. The pads of her fingers can feel the soft flesh of her breast…and the hardness of her nipple when he works their hands toward there. It feels good the caress - this gentle kneading of her. But that's not necessarily the best part about it. What feels sublime is her hand on his; the way Sam guides them with his firm, steady control.

It's a similar thing to what's happening where she's yearning for him the most; Sam's hand gentle in the pattern it forms as she laces her fingers all the way over the top of his. Andy bites her lip as her fingertips move through the wetness that Sam's been building up in her for what feels like hours. She digs the meat of her palm into his knuckles in an attempt to make him move them deeper, but he continues on with the tease, making her sob.

"Be patient beautiful…some things are worth the wait." It's as calm and sure as Sam has ever been when he's had Andy like this…not that he's ever completely out of control, but she's seen him lose himself in the desperation of wanting her before.

Andy's head drops backward against Sam's shoulder; her eyes closed at the sensation but her mouth open wide.

He kisses at edge of her mouth then, and whispers against her lips. "Don't come until I tell you, okay?"

Andy goes to respond with words but nods very fast instead, the back of her head knocking against Sam's shoulder more than once or twice. She's speechless because Sam's just stroked their conjoined hands as far under Andy as possible; their fingers sprawled like some sort of snow angel to probe all the right spots.

The noise Andy makes is guttural to start with; she can feel the release building from deep within her without being able to stop it. She blinks her eyes to try not to think about the pleasure, and exactly what they're doing to her here.

Andy moans in small waves as Sam secures their fingers in three places; their thumbs pressed firm on her clit, their middle fingers _inside_ her, and their pinkies just shy of her ass.

Andy's pretty sure she'd have fallen over now if not for how Sam's got her held so tight against him. She feels well and truly tangled everywhere. Her jeans won't move anywhere further down then her thighs, her shirt is still wrapped over the top of where her and Sam's hand are tangled in her bra, and her pants are covering their other hands so she can't see –

"Just feel it," Sam pants out in the biggest sign of waivered emotion he's shown so far tonight. "McNally, come on…work with me here."

Andy gets it then, she does. Gets that she needs to take this particular order…so she can prove to Sam that _she_ can let go of control. (Well, obviously Sam had to acknowledge he has control issues today, but Andy is slowly realizing that maybe she does too…)

But, to prove him wrong –

Andy follows; her thumb and fingers working at her just as he does – same space, same time…

The dual strokes, hers and his, make Andy delirious – everything inside and outside of her set to go off.

Sam grinds his hips further into her backside as he wedges her even further between his crotch and his wrist. She bucks down at his palm as she angles herself to get their fingers deeper inside. Andy presses Sam's thumb with hers so the pressure on her clit is how she wants it.

It's the stroking he's continued between her centre and ass that does her in though; this gentle tickle that makes her clench harder in every place than Andy thinks she ever has before. She's been making some sound for a while and gritting her teeth to stop the pleasure from erupting all through her –

Until Sam nips at her earlobe, kisses her cheek and gives a simple command: "Now."

Andy yelps when she hears it, everything unfurling like never before. There's a distinct possibility Sam's neighbours are never going to look at her the same way again – her moans and sighs gone high-pitched and loud.

Sam kisses at her neck as she rides her way through it - sucking little spots into her as she loses herself over their hands in the worlds' longest rip.

Andy lets herself go through it too…after all, that's apparently what you're meant to do when you get caught in one of those things. Her body bucks loosely despite the constriction around her – a force of nature she guesses as she comes out the other end (still gasping for air).

Sam holds her tight even as she finishes, which is probably just as well.

There is nothing left in Andy…

Except for the feeling of pleasure and love.

He turns Andy in his arms and kisses her on the mouth then - properly and deep. "Perfect," he tells her with a small smile as he pulls back for air.

Andy sighs, pleased and content as she winds her arms around Sam's neck. She's still like jelly everywhere, but her senses are starting to come around when her hips tilt into him...when she feels how Sam's _still_ trying to hold on to his self-control –

Sam may have been in control of Andy this past half hour or so, but she's pretty sure she can get the ball back in her court… once she regains her strength…

Andy reaches up and kisses Sam hard on the lips with the thought of payback and revenge. She whispers to him with a firm, no nonsense voice: "Now, take me to bed."

* * *

_A/N This one does actually have a Part 2, but it could be a little way off...so I figured I'd just put this one out there for now!_


	12. I'd Sell My Soul

_A/N So, this is part 2 to the chapter before (aka Andy's revenge). Thanks to the guest who picked up my blooper in chapter 11. Yes, I meant it's a tag to 3.4…but I have no doubt these two will be doing all this stuff next season too ;)_

_This is my way of saying thanks to all of you who have been brave enough to read and review my M rated fics! Gold stars to you all!_

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue**

* * *

McNally wasn't mucking about when she demanded to be taken to bed.

She's watching Sam's face very, very closely.

Her eyes are darker than Sam ever recalls having seen before.

The rest of her features are still, her eyes hardly blinking. It looks as though Andy may be considering exactly what type of revenge she's going to extract on Sam.

But.

If she doesn't act soon, Sam is thinking he'll just hoist her up -

All of a sudden, McNally _moves_.

She shunts her chest in the direction of Sam's, bumping at him to get a wriggle along before he can do what it takes to keep the upper hand.

He's done well until this point; keeping himself in check – going all the way hard for her a long while ago…but not giving in.

McNally's own body has gone from that soft, pliable form that she is when she comes...to all tight, hard muscle...in a short space of time.

She butts at him again, her hands only just managing to push at Sam's shoulders at the same time as her hips knock at his.

Sam puts his hands up in surrender and tries on a toothy grin. "Bed it is then."

McNally's stare remains heated - suggesting maybe that Sam shouldn't push his luck.

* * *

They walk the hallway and stairs to his bedroom quietly.

Silently, actually.

Not a single fucking word out of either one's mouth.

McNally's in Sam's space and right behind him though; he can feel her hot breath right below the nape of his neck.

His skin goose bump all the way around it, like it's some sort of magnet to his nerves.

She's got her hands firm on Sam's ass; bony fingers poking into his back pockets, and the thumbs on the outside pressing _hard_. She's steering him, Sam realizes. Well, controlling his speed. Mostly she's pushing at him to go faster, but every so often she tugs at him – slowing him down just for the heck it would seem.

Sam's mouth twitches in a silent apology to an image of Sarah and her kids that hangs to their left on the way through –

And then the dim light of the hall turns to black as Andy snaps the switch off.

* * *

The only light they're left with is the ambient from the street outside of Sam's bedroom window – moonshine and yellow streetlights that make his bedroom look warm and cool at the same time.

He stands, looking out at the streetscape...with a smirk on his face.

(Sam's pretty sure this is going to be one of those times where they tussle over who's on top, until either one gives in because they figure out the point eventually: neither one cares.)

Still, there's something about the way she's breathing that suggests _this_ could be more than _that_.

* * *

Sam feels Andy's hands wind their way around the waist of his jeans. She's got the stripping him thing down pat, that's for damn sure.

She's not even looking at her hands when she unlatches his belt and pulls hard on it; the leather skims through the loops in one go, making a whip of a noise.

Sam sucks in a breath as the corner of his eye catches sight of the belt fly onto the bed – sucks harder still when her fingers work at his zip.

(The walk here was long and excruciating, standing here and not moving at all is a whole lot worse.)

* * *

McNally ducks one hand through Sam's boxers' quick smart and wraps her palm around him tight, maybe like she's checking he's still hard for her, for _godsake_.

(As if he's ever _not_ when they're in this…space).

Sam swallows the lump in his throat but doesn't move an inch. In fact –

He point blank refuses to buck at her warm, clammy touch.

(Not that he doesn't want to, he just –

_Fuck._

As if she doesn't already know how she brings Sam to his knees.)

As though she's reading his mind, McNally thrusts her hips into his backside – and _pulls_ at him as she does, her fingers rubbing all the way over the underside and head of his cock.

Sam shuts his eyes tight and grits his teeth...

Before his jaw goes loose and slack of its own accord.

* * *

McNally kisses into the back of his neck with her mouth open and wet and then tugs at him a few more times quick and firm until she elicits a low groan from Sam's mouth.

He pants to himself trying to stop it, but –

_Yeah_.

Her hand on him like that has got him well overdue to want _more_.

* * *

It's a rude shock when she takes it off him then, the space all around Sam leaving him feeling exposed and empty once more.

He hears a single, playful giggle come out of McNally's mouth right before her fingers reach the hem of his shirt.

Sam holds his arms up abruptly, wanting to help her get the damn thing off so she can get her hands and mouth all over him again.

He's disappointed again though, when this time she doesn't kiss him between things...

She just sets herself the task of pulling Sam's jeans and boxers off.

* * *

Finally, Sam stands naked before McNally – well, with her at his rear.

(Sam doesn't even know what to think of her being behind him like this, he wants to keep checking over his shoulder every ten seconds or so.

And it's not that he couldn't just turn around and convince her to let him fuck her right the hell now, it's just –

Well. He's worried that if he doesn't do things her way, she might just throw a tantrum and walk out his door –

Leaving him here bare and wanting her more.)

* * *

Sam's mildly appeased when McNally runs her hands all the way over and around him. Her fingers are feather-light across all of his muscles as they trace out his form.

She nestles herself into him real close again at one point and whispers breathily into his ear. "You're so stupidly _hot_."

Sam figures it's not the temperature she's talking about – given the way she just stroked a hand all the way down from his neck to his groin.

Sam would probably grin at her little act here, except –

It is totally working for him.

* * *

"Lie on the bed," she tells him in this voice that's stern but with an edge that is soft….supple almost.

* * *

Sam makes his way onto the bed slowly, cautiously. He tries to force a teasing smile onto his face as he rolls to his back and look up at her.

Only then he can't break it –

The way he's confronted with a McNally expression that means business – not a single bite of her lip or fetching blush in plain sight.

"_McNally_," he tries eventually, his voice taking on a tone of absurd and surreal.

Sam doesn't even know what he's attempting to say to McNally really, only that he is really...

_Really_...wound up.

"Swarek," Andy replies seriously. "Keep still...and keep quite."

Sam lets his head thud back against a pillow and he closes his eyes, a position he assumes is relatively safe -

* * *

Maybe not though.

When he opens his eyes, Andy's moved to his dresser, and –

By the fact she's bent down to open the bottom drawer, he's already guessed what she's about to pull out.

(He's kept his first pair of 'cuffs there since the first re-issue; has used them on her a few times before.)

This, um. Yeah.

This will be a first for him.

McNally bounces back up with a twisted grin, and from what Sam can see there is definitely a twinkle in her eye. The light from the moon accentuates it, Sam thinks.

* * *

She crawls over the top of him, not breaking eye contact – and catches his hands before they can get at her waist.

The soft, metallic snick of the cuffs as she latches them around his wrists makes his whole body jolt. Only slightly - but enough for Andy to notice.

He does grin at her then, desperately wanting to hide the anticipation and agony that's coursing further and further through his body.

McNally smiles back sweetly.

And just like she _knows_.

She messes about with the hinges, wiggling Sam's wrists to ensure they're locked in - and out of harms way.

"You think that's gonna stop me from getting to you…" Sam whispers right onto her chin, brave out of nowhere as though he's decided something just has to be done.

McNally tilts her head and bites down on his lip _hard_.

"Oh, you've already got me Swarek," Andy says when she pulls back.

She's pouting at this point; annoyed perhaps that Sam's going to stay in control despite the situation. "You seriously think that's the problem for me here?" she says in a stern mutter –

As she takes her shirt and singlet all the way off.

* * *

And, it could be that Andy has learned well from Sam indeed; taken some tips from when he's done this to _her_.

Because next thing he knows, McNally is looping her shirt around the chain of the links and is _dragging_ Sam's arms upward to knot the free ends around a post of his headboard.

_Tight._

"Didn't say you had a _problem_..." Sam starts to respond, his eyes bouncing between McNally's and the serious cleavage she's got happening in front of his face.

Andy blows her fringe out of her eyes and gives him a double-dose of her most heated look.

He attempts another thrust up to maybe show her what she's missing out on with the delays in proceedings here.

McNally closes her eyes for a split second, a small sigh coming from her lips, which –

Only serves to agitate Sam and his body further – _everything_ in spasms aside being rock solid hard.

* * *

It's when McNally moves away from Sam again that he realizes just how much he misses being able to put his hands on her.

(It's a thing for him, alright: stroking her curves, skimming her muscles, touching her where she _wants_, and feeling that lion-hearted beat…)

He watches her now and wonders…how quick or steady it might be now.

He's convinced his own is about to come clear through his chest, especially –

When McNally straps Sam's ankles together with his belt.

He chokes out a nervous, but curious laugh.

* * *

"Just in case," she tells him with a wink and this voice he hears from her in the mornings; that warm, husky tone.

Sam puts his head back and breathes, lets the ache of _wanting_ wash all the way over him and back again.

(He is well and truly done for.

There's every possibility he's just going to lose himself all over her the next time she touches him, Sam's pretty sure).

* * *

Even through the dim light of the room she looks…darker than that. This bad girl edge he's never really seen before.

Sam has to admit that it thrills him, despite the fact that he….

Well.

He likes McNally for every piece of beautiful and sweet and _good_ that she is.

(It's not that she's _not_ cheeky and courageous in bed…but this.

This is a _whole_ other side).

* * *

She just stands there and watches Sam for the longest time, probably to get a vivid sense of the power she's got over him right now.

(And he feels it too. Little does she know that he feels it _all_ the damn time).

* * *

Andy stripteases slowly, running a hand down over her front before it reaches her fly.

She inches her jeans off at an impossibly slow rate.

It's about to _kill_ Sam.

His eyes can't help but follow her movements, trawling down her toned body and drinking her in. The visual is out of this world as she continues –

Her fingers carefully plucking at her underwear before they get teased off her skin.

It's her bra that goes first –

And gets flung at Sam's face.

He laughs as a reflex as it hits him.

(A sound that dies on his lips when he smells the scent of her there).

* * *

"Look back here, Sam," McNally sighs out quietly, sounding like –

Sounding like she's touching herself.

(Which –

She is.)

* * *

Her hands are fondling her breasts delicately, her fingers once in a while stopping to tweak at her nipples –

Sam hisses out loud at the memory of touching her there less than an hour ago.

She moans then. Long and low and with her mouth part the way open as her back hits the wall behind her.

* * *

"I like the way you fucked me earlier," Andy tells Sam quietly, her voice turning the words into a whole lot more than that.

(Sam is convinced there is only one woman in the world that can make that sentence sound ….right….even when _he's_ the vulnerable one).

He closes his eyes tight again and then pops them open, and looks her in the eyes while she's lowering her hands down toward her pants.

The thing is: Sam wants her to see that she's everything he _wants_…in every way.

* * *

"You gonna be okay?" she says with a cute stutter as the panties come off, her eyes still fixed on Sam's.

He raises his eyebrows and jostles the handcuffs as he stares back at her, realizing what she's getting at here.

(Sam's twitching like gangbusters now, his head and his body out of control: it's all a dead giveaway).

"What do you think?" he huffs at McNally, desperate to sink inside of her and _let her_ have him….again.

* * *

And it's the first sign he's seen as a tiny struggle that McNally is having with herself…the way she peers up at Sam and then bites on her lip.

"C'mon pretty girl, just…" Sam barely stops himself from finishing the plead - he just wants to try _bargaining_ with her any which way that he can.

(The throb has gone off the richter scale, all sorts of intense).

Andy shakes her head forlornly as she watches him practically beg.

She clutches her panties in one hand as she runs them over herself…

And then throws those in his direction too.

* * *

It's a miracle that Sam stops himself from coming.

His brain and spine sparking all about the place as he holds on for his life. Still –

He feels himself dripping, and can only barely get a grip on his breath.

* * *

Sam would pat himself on the back if his hands were free, but they're not.

He rattles the 'cuffs again clumsily and lets out a whimper of sorts.

The skinny fabric she had on her has landed on his chest, close…but not close enough. Their dampness is taunting him -

Sam has never wanted anything (aside her) in his mouth so fucking much.

To make matters worse, he can smell McNally _everywhere_ - even though she's not all the way near him right now.

It's this sweet, spicy, intoxicating scent that is all her and it blows his mind every time.

"Andy…_sweetheart_…_please_…" Sam pants out frantically, now right on the edge –

Possibly to something he should be more afraid of than he is.

* * *

She does come to him then –

_Slowly._

She crawls her way back over the top of him and kisses into his mouth deep –

Making Sam lose his breath yet again.

"It's hurting me too, Sam…" McNally whimpers when she pulls back onto her haunches, and slides her panties from his chest to his face –

And then pausing the thin fabric square over his eyes.

Sam swallows audibly, unable to see what she's going to do next.

At this point in time, Sam is willing to relinquish _everything_ to her.

(He's pretty sure it's the heat of her body that has set off the current that's now coursing it's way down from his head to the rest of his body –

But it could also be the way she just slid herself down the outside of his cock.

* * *

Sam groans and keeps groaning as he feels her wet mouth all over his chest neck and face as she does it.

(In between the soft kisses are these punishing little bites - that are like sharp electric shocks. No doubt their intensity is revved up by the fact that he has no idea when they're about to hit –

Yeah. Blindfolded. He's totally going to do this to _her _next time).

* * *

"God, you taste so good Sam," Andy murmurs in between sucking her way down as far as she can, her lower body leading a trail down his thigh.

That long reach of hers has got her mouth on his cock while her hand keeps holding the panties over his eyes steady and firm.

Beneath it all though, Sam feels the slightest quiver – the way she flutter on his leg like this whole thing is turning her all the way on.

* * *

He takes that as another opportunity then; grits his teeth against the way she's moving her tongue and mouth over pulse-points that are going to make him lose it any moment now…

"Sweetheart…sweetheart…let me make _you_ feel good too…" Even as Sam says it he's trying not to push himself further into her mouth, his skin everywhere prickling at the sensation as she uses some teeth.

"I _do _feel good," McNally declares as she pulls off with a plop long enough to tell him where things stand.

_Jesus._

The way she just rubbed herself up against his thigh again might be evidence to that.

* * *

McNally's mouth is back on Sam before he knows it – and this time she sucks hard and _long_ –

_Moaning_ as she does it and sending the vibration to the core of Sam.

* * *

It's _fierce_ when it happens.

Sam unable to hold on any more, not even being able to tell –

He thrashes about helplessly beneath her, all blood in his body gone to one place and everything terrifyingly dark.

The muscles in his arms and legs are screwed, nothing flexing as he wants it to as their restrictions keep him in place -

While McNally takes as much of the rest of Sam as she can.

* * *

He surrenders completely to her then, just lets himself feel the sensation of being inside of her like this.

It's warm and free and like waves crashing slowly -

(If this is death by drowning, Sam will take it –

As long as she comes too.)

* * *

As Sam starts to get his head above his release, he feels the way McNally works her jaw and tongue to help her take in what's left of him, and kiss him softly there as she finally takes her mouth off.

* * *

It's only then that she removes his blindfold and he sees her.

Sam blinks at her for a while – readjusting his eyes and finding her gaze.

Her expression has become something gentle and lovely, happy and –

Something else.

* * *

"You're beautiful," Andy squeaks out finally, both of them having just gaped at one another for the longest of moments.

Sam's still breathing harder than he ever has, and is wondering what in God's name just happened then.

He finds himself more and more in awe of this woman every day… and the way she –

The way she shows that she likes him a lot.

"And you're somethin' else," Sam tells her with a crooked smile and wide eyes as she moves back up his body to kiss him full on the mouth.

* * *

Sam closes his eyes and tastes himself –

Decides that he's right where he belongs.

* * *

McNally tilts her pointy chin up at him as she pulls her face away from the kiss she just left. The first sign of a blush appears as she asks him, almost shy:

"Now, am I gonna have to leave you chained to the bed…. or are you gonna promise not to hunt us both out of here tomorrow morning at the crack of dawn".

Sam has no idea what to say to that. Aside the fact that he wants to say something so she _knows_…

"Take the 'cuffs off." Sam looks straight into her eyes. "I'm all yours."

Just for good measure, Sam nibbles at her ribs as she goes to reach up.

It's a gesture that has McNally giggling that sound that Sam absolutely adores.

* * *

_A/N Okay, well! Now that I've got that out of my system, I'll tone down it down a notch or two! _

_There's one more chapter sketched out for this story - unless anyone else has Season 3 prompts of this kind :)_


	13. Hot Water Bleeding Our Colors

_A/N: This prompt from MegEvans1983 was just way too great to pass up. (By the way, if you haven't already – you really must go read her fics!) _

_The scene takes place during 3.2, whilst Sam & Andy watch Jerry interview Wyatt...shortly after Sam's: 'Okay. What's the rush?' and McNally's smile in return. (And not long before we see them back at Andy's place with her asleep with her head in Sam's lap...which, yes. There will be a chapter tagging that too – thanks Becca.) _

_Anyway, onward and upward. I hope you enjoy this 'quickie' as an addition to the collection!_

* * *

They both stand fixed to their respective spots, Andy still with the smallest and most hopeful of smiles on her face.

Eventually, they turn in unison – giving their fronts to what's happening in the room below.

They spend the next minute or two just waiting and watching as Jerry shuffles his files and sighs, while the kid sips at water out of a bottle.

Sam's buddy detective gives the young Romeo he's interviewing a few irritated glares on occasion, obviously not 100% happy with how the answers have gone.

"It's not the same," McNally blurts out of nowhere this time. "Like. At all."

* * *

Sam's eyebrows climb high on his forehead.

He really, really wishes McNally would give context to some of the things that she says.

"It's not..." Sam starts in confusion, until a quick dose of realization dawns that McNally is referencing and reiterating their discussion of only moments ago.

(He thought they were done with that particular conversation, is all).

He watches her face closely, notices the way her eyes flicker their way around his features too.

_Oh._

Yeah. McNally's doe eyed concern over the suspected too many potential differences between them, and how Sam might dump her because of them right there on the spot.

Sam realizes then that McNally is not entirely certain that he believes her –

He chews at his bottom lip a while, his heart beating a little fast as the myriad of complexities to his past and present flash in front of his eyes.

They _are_ different is the thing.

Well.

Different in the ways they respond to...

_Life_.

She's open and honest and trusting despite all the betrayal that's been levelled her way -

Sam is not.

And hasn't been for a very long time.

Well.

Except for the way he trusts _her_.

(The way she counted those shots the kid took today. Yeah –

Sam trusts that McNally will always have his back).

Still:

It's gonna be a struggle and he knows it. He's spent a good while longer than she has forming habits and coping strategies; he has to admit he's got some doubts as to whether those parts of him will ever change. Which –

Could be something that McNally can't get that pretty head around.

Sam shakes his head to clear his thoughts; he doesn't want to give any more energy to what _might_ bring them undone. (Can't bear to think about it, truth be told).

He especially doesn't want to exert energy with words; they are really not his thing. Instead –

Sam decides to contemplate some _action_ that might untangle some of the knots McNally's got herself in.

(Hopefully they will also help alleviate the dull throb he's had in his head since he started watching Jerry in Interview 1.)

Out of nowhere McNally's in his face, breathing hard like she might've just chased down a perp. "No rush. I get it. We're different. I get it. But...but...it _is_ different. You and me. It's different to me and...me and...him."

Sam blinks, the throb in his head growing by the second.

The fact that neither McNally nor Sam can actually _say_ Callaghan's name in this discussion is making Sam feel uneasy –

He doesn't even know why.

He doesn't want to even think about the guy.

At all.

He especially doesn't want McNally thinking about him.

At all.

And so –

Sam kisses her.

Right there in the observation room.

Right in front of the mirror and Jerry's paper-shuffling bonanza and that Wyatt kid that is never going to be able to keep his shit together long enough to _truly_ end up with his girl.

And sure it's a bad idea.

And sure they should 'talk'.

But right now, Sam's got a killer headache, and he doesn't want to think or talk about what may or may _not_ be in terms of the future of their relationship...

And sure.

They shouldn't be kissing or touching or doing any-fucking-thing of the sort.

(Brennan and water-boarding and McNally practically fed to the wolves; you'd think they'd have learned their lesson by now-)

Obviously not.

McNally whimpers inside him instantaneously; her warm, wet, messy mouth nipping at his as she fidgets her fingers around the buttons of his shirt and the badge on his chest.

Sam puts a hand on her waist to steady her, and nudges her with his hip until her back hits the glass.

The one way mirror McNally's body jars against is one of the few things between here and Jerry and the kid from the wrong side of the tracks –

"Not rushing..." McNally gasps as her tongue shoves its way down Sam's throat.

He sucks at her a little and realizes when she clamps his thigh between her legs that they do actually need to hurry _some_ things along –

Sam bumps his thigh up and rubs into her, eliciting a moan from her mouth.

It's a sound he likes a whole lot under any circumstance, so he rubs a little bit harder and faster.

And then bumps his groin at her.

Just to show her what she's up against here.

Next thing he knows, she's practically climbing his body; those long, muscley arms of hers going monkey tight all the way 'round his neck.

(Sam empathises with her desperation actually, how they can't go 12 hours without _needing_ one another since she got back –

Since _before_ she got back).

The way she's got a hold of him is doing things to Sam that should be illegal; her soft body against his hard one fits like a glove.

The two wrestle to dominate proceedings; McNally giving as good as she takes and trying to make Sam thrust where she wants.

It's then that Sam snaps to attention, needing to take control before he loses himself all over her.

He rubs both hands up and down her sides; much like he has the times he's wanted her to turn around –

She's learned the signal without questioning now and gives in surprisingly easily. (_Wanting_...yeah).

She spins her body so her palms and chest are planted up against the observation mirror, her breath forming some steamy patterns on the smooth, glassy surface.

It squeaks a little as McNally tries to get some traction with her fingers.

When Sam rubs himself against her backside, gets McNally squeaking some too.

* * *

All told, it doesn't take Sam long to get her uniform pants to a point he's got access; deft fingers that knew on instinct how to get to her from the very first time they were allowed.

They continue their journey under the elastic of her panties, Sam holding her ponytail to one side with the other hand so he can get his mouth on her neck.

He licks a little at the heat and sweat she's generating, tastes McNally, salt, and that fruity perfume she seems to like so much this summer.

After a few sharp nips that make her shiver, Sam closes his eyes dips his hand all the way underneath her.

He works his fingers over where she's the wettest, and then tilts two inside and gets her swallowing her breath.

It's when she gets one of _her_ hands down her pants as well that he can't help himself.

He's been hurting practically since this little episode started. So –

Sam unzips himself carefully, as he continues to fuck her with his fingers and run a thumb over her clit.

McNally sobs a noise that makes him feel predatory; she follows it up with a series of short, helpless little sighs with a whole lot of _ohs_.

As he pulls his fingers out of her, her hips follow his hand in butterfly strokes –

It makes Sam feel a little mean to leave her wanting, but he knows it won't be for long.

* * *

Sam doesn't exactly _mean_ to be rough when he shoves his cock inside her; but between the adrenalin, tangle of uniforms, the chance of being sprung, and his stupid fucking headache –

He does.

It's a solid, blunt push inside her warm, slippery body. And it happens all at once –

Both Sam and McNally let out some quiet animal-like sounds when it happens, her clenching real hard before he can even wrap his head around attempting to pull back.

"Stay," Andy demands through some gritted teeth, her voice an octave lower than he's ever heard. "Please... Sam...just...just...stay."

Sam does stay. His whole body is throbbing; on fire and wanting to come.

Slowly, McNally moves a sweaty hand off herself, and winds it to the back of Sam's head.

Her other hand stays on the mirror for forward support, as her ass grinds small circles against the front of Sam.

He closes his eyes and ducks his head when he spots Jerry glance up toward the mirror. His buddy's giving what Sam assumes is his: _Kids. What do you do?_ look and a shrug.

Sam bights hard into the fabric on McNally's shoulder, as he lets her move up and down the length of him in a quick series of strokes that have them both only ever breathing out –

Never in.

* * *

McNally's head thuds back against Sam's shoulder, enough for him to lift his face and get his open mouth on her ear.

She takes his breath away.

Again.

That pretty, flushed cheek, and soft, soft skin.

Her eyes are not quite closed, the eyelashes fluttering and working away tiny, tiny beads of sweat.

(Also: Sam is 100% going to ask her later whether she was 'watching' the risk to them being caught. From some of the almost-public sex they've been having lately, he's fairly certain it's one of her kinks).

He gets a hand on her thigh and continues to watch her as he opens one leg a fraction wider, giving himself the room to push further up.

Andy lets out a loud, dirty groan and yanks at Sam's hair.

"You don't know _how_ to go slow, do you McNally?" he tells her through some gritted teeth as she pushes and pushes and pushes herself back onto him.

He lets her hear the way she gets to him for a while as he takes all of her on, kissing at her cheek messily when she tells him in a fragile and broken whisper; "never wanted anything so bad as I want _you_."

The friction between them after that becomes mind-numbing; Sam unable to resist pushing into McNally harder and harder while she pushes right back, that tight body gripping and never letting go, not once. Well –

_Once._

She comes hard and fast, Sam copping the full force of it as her hips and ass jerk backward on to him so much so that he has to catch her waist and hold on tight.

His own release is a complete and utter reflex; something that he didn't even realize had built up _so_ much.

(Yeah –

Knocked him off his feet the first day.

Has knocked him off them every day since).

* * *

The pair of them are way too noisy when it happens, both unsuccessful in keeping their mouths and vocal chords shut.

McNally grabs for Sam's hand that is still hovering over her as she comes down off her high.

She plants him in a position so he cups her firmly, a gesture that makes Sam swallow any saliva he has left on his tongue.

He feels her swollen and rapid pulse rate there as he shunts his way through what's left of him, and blinks his eyes helplessly when he looks up to see that Jerry and lover-boy kid about to leave Interview 1.

"_Christ_," Sam chokes with some pitch as he pulls out of McNally a second too soon, his cock twitching as she struggles against letting him go.

They're both completely sticky and in real trouble in terms of comfort levels until they get to the end of shift. But. It's the least of their problems for now.

* * *

Sam tugs at McNally's hands and goes into crisis response without a second thought. Still –

He's as gentle as he can be about it; he knows that in emergency situations she follows his lead.

He pulls her pants into place first and quickly. "Do your belt up, sweetheart." Sam instructs; his voice as calm as he can make it, but without a doubt the adrenalin is rearing its head.

McNally makes a series of sounds; confused little whimpers until her eyes go all the way wide on recognition of where they are and what's happening –

* * *

Sam has barely, barely, _barely_ got himself together by the time Jerry swings the door open.

Ever the gentleman, Sam stands protectively in front of the most part of McNally's body. He knows for sure that despite her poker prowess, her face is a dead give-away in these situations. The blush she gets going may be something that Sam likes to see a whole lot of, but –

He knows what Barber might do about that.

(Jerry and Oliver: Division 15's greatest gossips, for sure).

"You guys take care of this one-" Jerry huffs out on his entry, letting the question die on his lips gracefully, all things considered. He does however give Sam one of those classic Barber half-mouth-tongue-biting smirks.

(Academy Days housemates, yeah. Jerry has got Sam's number for sure).

Sam is more than tempted to take a quick peek down at his fly, make sure it's done up. He resists the temptation though, just gives his stoniest _what's your problem?_ face to his buddy and nods imperceptibly. "Yep, got it Jer."

He feels some fingers from McNally twitching on his duty belt as he says it, feels her breath pant silently giving some heat to his neck.

Sam exhales carefully, shuffling one foot to try and fix himself up.

He stares at Jerry a while longer, giving the detective some eyebrows when the smartass winds his tongue in his cheek.

Sam feels McNally's whole hand tug at his belt then, only a fraction, but more than enough to get him leaning back into her touch.

This girl is 100% going to be the never-ending death of Sam.

None the less, he loves her more than he's ever been able to wrap his brain - or any other body part - around.

* * *

McNally's got a sly smile on her face as they make their way toward booking.

She snatches some paperwork out of Peck's hands so she can get the kid processed, and peeks over at Sam.

"My place tonight." she mouths so only Sam can see, the kid and Peck oblivious to everything except locating a pen.

_No_ _rush_ and _differences_ aside –

Sam grins at her with some dimples, and then gives her a wink and a nod.


	14. The Way is Clear

_A/N. This one takes place during 3.6 (That day after the time Claire interrupted the McNally/Swarek food fight and not long before Andy got cross with Sam about looking into her mom. Let's just say: Before they took the call that led to Izzy and the party, the night was a QUIET one)._

_I thank Becca for all of this, her inspiration foremost. I also acknowledge her in-depth technical expertise with regard to police squad cars (amongst other things)._

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue **

* * *

Andy is flustered.

She just_ is_.

All night food fight aside, there's a tension between her and Sam that has lasted right across the day. His little niggles about her mother and trust and letting people in easily is just –

Well.

Getting to her.

To be honest, as much as she _sometimes_ likes Sam bossing her around…

Andy does not like Sam bossing her around _at all_.

She thought they'd cleared that up.

(_Sometimes you've got to let us make mistakes… If you let me drive…_)

Andy huffs out a loud breath, over the 'comfortable silence' they've been driving around with now for the past thirteen minutes or so.

(Not that she's counting or anything).

She turns her face and tips her chin up at Sam. Stares him down, willing him to look her way.

He doesn't though. Doesn't even look like he _might_.

"I wanna drive." Andy pouts, keeping her eyes fixed to his face.

Sam's mouth turns up on one corner, just a millimetre or two. "I don't think so," he responds eventually, eyes still on the road and as casual as can be.

Andy frowns. She sticks her nose in the air and tightens her jaw. "Why not?"

"I let you drive yesterday, McNally," Sam says, his 'i's stretching out and the rest of the sentence taking on a tone that suggests it's the most obvious thing in the world. "I thought our relationship was about _compromise_."

_Ugh._ That would be Sam throwing Andy's words back in her face.

(Possibly it wasn't the best idea for her to use meaningful words about their relationship while he went down on her last night.)

Andy narrows her eyes and continues to glare at him. "Show you compromise," she mutters eventually, crossing her arms and looking back to the road.

* * *

Another 7 minutes later and things are far too quiet for Andy.

They haven't received a single call in forever, the streets deader and more law-abiding than any other time she's been on the force.

She looks at Sam out of the corner of her eye. It doesn't get past her that he appears…

Content.

_For goodness sake._

Given his own need for adrenalin and action, he _has_ to be bored.

Andy's pretty sure he's disguising it on purpose, trying to goad her with the fact he's at the wheel and quite happy to drive in silence.

God only knows what he's thinking about.

Andy wishes she _could_ read his mind…

She hopes he's thinking about her –

But what if he's not?

What if he's just thinking about how many doughnuts Oliver ate after lunch?

_Or._

Or. What if he is thinking about Andy…but not in a good way?

What if he's thinking about what a pain in the ass she can be?

Andy is unsettled by this series of rumblings taking over her brain.

She just wishes…

Like. _Seriously._ Where is the _action_ tonight?

"I need to pee," she squeaks out of no place.

And it seriously _is_ no place.

They're out the back of woop-woop, someplace nearby to where her dad used to shoot at bottles and drink on the quiet.

Sam raises a bored eyebrow, but sounds reasonably sympathetic. "We'll head back to the station-"

"Damn it, Sam." Andy is snappy for no good reason, other than the fact he's not bending over backwards like he normally does to get a smile on her face. "You're not in control of my bladder, okay?"

Both eyebrows of his go way up then. Not so bored now. "I'm not in…" Sam blinks after a few moments, and brings the cruiser to a screeching halt – thankfully at the side of the road.

He puts an arm around her seat, turns and faces her as far as he can. He's looking at her now as though she might have grown two heads. "But _you_ are…right?" His voice sounds like it might be on the verge of laughing at her.

Andy rolls her eyes and opens her door. She looks around the spot they're in, notices nowhere that would really suffice for a police person, especially a female officer, to go _en plein air_.

(Quite frankly, she doesn't really need to go anyway…she just –

She needed some air maybe.

Needed to feel not so damn tetchy…

Yeah. That particular problem could have something to do with the fact that they were distracted this morning on the second go around with a phone call from Trace -)

Andy ambles down the way a little, kicking at a few sticks and pebbles that get in her way. She deliberately does _not_ look over her shoulder at Sam…despite the fact that she desperately, desperately _wants _to.

(She may want him to follow is the thing).

He doesn't though.

Sam does not follow Andy one single step.

* * *

When she walks back up after 5 minutes from some paltry shrub that she found, the jerk is waiting by the cruiser.

He's leaned up against it, arms on the roof and gazing at the sky like it's the greatest thing in the world. Which –

Okay. It probably _is_.

There are a _lot_ of stars out tonight.

Andy figures if you can't beat 'em, join 'em.

She leans up against the squad car too, a mirror position to Sam. She rolls her neck backward and gazes straight up.

As her eyes do raise to the heavens, she sighs softly. She knows enough about constellations to know it's Orion she sees. But that just makes Andy wonder what the heck _the hunter_ might have to do with her and Sam -

Next thing Andy knows, Sam is right behind her.

(Um. Okay. Yeah, she supposes he can be pretty stealth when he wants).

Her whole spine straightens, every single notch winding up like the inside of a clock.

For a good minute she doesn't dare turn around, she just waits…synchs her breathing to his; the same rate that he's spreading some heat on her neck.

"You good to go?" Sam asks quietly, somewhere less than an inch and right of her ear.

Andy swallows, nods straight away –

Can't help herself really - what with the way Sam just bumped at her ass with his groin.

She does her best to turn 180 after giving herself a few seconds to school her features, think of things other than what Sam does to her at times when he adopts a similar tone.

(Tetchy and wanting a kiss, sure. But they _are_ on duty. Sure as anything, Andy's luck will have it that as soon as Sam gets a hand on her, they're going to need to respond to some major criminal activity…probably the worst Toronto has seen).

What Andy does realize when she turns -

Sam has not left any space for her body between himself and the cruiser. In fact, Andy is wedged so tight between the two hard objects that the pressure is making her head tilt.

It's not Andy's fault then that her hands make for Sam's ribcage immediately; her fingers fiddling at the coarse fabric of his shirt that's taunting her about the fact that he's got it tucked in tight.

Also: The moonlight is doing some seriously crazy and stunning things to Sam's face. He's like some truly breathtaking black and white image; all bright eyes, dark shadows and stubble. And –

The look on his face is generating enough heat in Andy to light up the city. It's a look she's seen a lot before; one that she knows now as that he _wants_ her in particular way.

Andy's mouth twitches. She can't help but feel a little smug here all of a sudden, all her concerns forgotten in a heartbeat as 'action-man-Sam' finally makes his appearance tonight.

Normally and in similar situations, Andy would push to her toes and get her mouth on his without thinking at all. But –

She's still feeling just a touch uncertain as to exactly what _should_ happen here. If the Days of Brennan have taught her one thing, it's that 'time and space' are important considerations when it comes to some things.

"You gonna kiss me?" Andy asks carefully, her voice somewhere in the vicinity of curious, but also unsure.

Sam sets his jaw firm and tilts his face impossibly close, right down by Andy's mouth. He doesn't say anything though, he just gives one, slow nod.

Andy is happy with that all told. She figures if Sam is up for it, a small kiss won't hurt. She slides her hands to his shoulders, to take up her favourite position whenever Sam kisses her face.

But then Sam's got an arm around her waist pulling her even further into his body. Not to kiss her though. More like to get a space between Andy and the back door of the cruiser –

_Oh._

To _open_ the back door of the cruiser.

Andy giggles nervously, watching Sam watch her face.

Sam's pretty good on his feet really, walking them both a couple of steps back toward the cruiser when the door is all the way open. "Not just gonna kiss you, McNally." His voice is still insanely quiet, a low, low pitch that isn't a whisper…but is just super soft.

"Oh yeah?" Andy tries to snort at him, but it comes out a little breathier than that.

Sam's got Andy's head ducked and her ass sliding backward across the hard plastic seat before she can continue the conversation though.

"Yeah." Sam's reply is against Andy's mouth and almost inside it. He's also got the most part of his body inside the car too, one knee on the seat and between Andy's legs on a mission to keep shunting her in the direction he wants.

It's not the most comfortable of positions; her eventually ending up with a good portion of her back against the door, her head against the window, and one set of fingers clutching at the wire cage that separates the front from the back.

But –

When it comes to makeouts with Sam, Andy will deal.

She keeps one hand on his shoulder, helping prop him up as he gets to work on her duty belt. Obviously if he had this in mind, it's something they should've done while they were still outside the car. It would've been a whole lot easier to undress…

_God._

What is Andy even thinking? (Oh, yes ma'am. Perfectly normal for two officers to get indecent in open space. Not that -)

_Whatever._

Andy is distracted from concerning herself with details, the heavy thud of Sam finally manage to unwrap one of the barriers between them now tells Andy the belt and it's utensils are safe on the floor.

He unzips her straight away after that, plucks at her shirt like it's piece of tissue and then wedges his hand down her best cotton underpants.

Andy lets out some noise that echoes into the night, his fingers sliding all the way down and under her immediately.

He nips on her ear as he does it too, waits for her second hiss before he suggests casually: "Thought you might have been bored".

"_Mmm, ahh_. Shit. Sam," is the extent of sentence Andy can come back with.

And then that gets cut off pretty quickly, Sam shoving his tongue down her throat.

Andy groans some more at him, sucking sloppily on his tongue like it's icy relief on a smashing hot day.

She bucks her hips up as well as she does it, finds herself stopped in her tracks by _his_ duty belt.

* * *

Things are a bit of a blur then, the two of them wrestling their hands around a whole lot of leather and metal that takes a stupid amount of minutes to get all the way off.

"Fuck," Sam says with some irritation as his second knee finally makes an appearance on the backseat, getting him all the way in the car while still managing to plant his feet against that door to keep it slightly ajar. "Okay…" Sam swallows with some force as Andy manages to work his uniform and boxers so they're halfway down his ass.

(Andy might've stopped midway to get her fist around him there too, check just how hard he was…

Which –

Hard.

_Really, really hard._

Like maybe this has been building up since this morning….

The same amount of time that Andy's felt some sort of need...

So much for that cool exterior he's had all friggin shift.)

"Um." Sam's voice is wrecked all of a sudden, this helpless tone that is maybe because of all the fabric he's tangled up in.

Andy nods fiercely.

Whilst she may not be in the best position here, out of the pair of them…

She's definitely going to have to _get_ this.

He can do a little thrusting downward, but whichever way it happens, it's going to be murder on his knees.

"I got it, sweetheart," Andy whispers at him hoarsely, in all seriousness and everything. The _sweetheart_ almost sounding like how he says it to her.

Sam tips his shoulders, chest and face right into Andy then; his whole top half squashing her breasts, and his face in her neck.

He sucks on a soft spot not far from her jaw. When he pulls his lips off her there he uses some teeth, instructs her gently: "Gonna have to be quick."

Andy totally gets the fact that this isn't the time for romance and foreplay, and it's not just that they're both on duty….

They are both insanely _worked up_.

She hooks a leg up around his waist, and wraps it around as far as she can. It serves a dual purpose; getting close to the prize…and giving her some traction to hoist her other leg from between Sam and the seat –

Hook it around the other way; give him a tight, tight hug with both legs.

She grits her teeth and bares the sensation as his cock rubs slips against her and almost inside…

Making Sam make some noise.

Andy gives his ear a kiss and a placating _shshh_ as she finally works her upper body into a position that can get her arms around him too - and her hands in his hair.

She grins at the cruiser ceiling as she rotates her hips and feels out his length to get them lined up. Her core strength and yoga sessions in general are paying a whole stack of dividends.

To top it off, she's pretty sure she can do this without either of them needing to use their hands.

Sure, both of them are going to be battered and bruised by the hard seat by the end of this, but –

No pain, no gain.

And Andy has already come this far after all.

She scratches into Sam's hair gently and lets him suck at her neck some more as she does it – first pulling her waist back to slide in the direction of base to head –

And then tilting her pelvis and hips as far forward as she can to secure his cock right at the point where she wants.

Andy gasps in some air on reflex.

(The blunt width of him always gets her first up).

Andy bites into her lip and closes her eyes, traces her fingers over the shells of his ears. "Now, Sam…now…then I'll do the rest," she tries to keep her voice neutral…but it's wobbly and wanting for sure.

Sam doesn't have to be told twice of the signal though, the two of them an impeccable partnership when it comes to this sort of thing.

He breathes out hard and fast as he fucks himself into her; one slow, steady slide. His noise at the end of it shatters something inside of Andy –

Possibly her self-control.

From there on in both of them are not quiet or gentle or soft about any damn thing; Andy gripping and pulling along his length like she's the greediest girl in the world.

She doesn't hold back on the verbal nonsense either; talking him through being fucked from underneath by telling him how big and hard and awesome and out of this world he is…a whole lot of stuff that will make Andy blush when they get back on patrol.

Sam stays still for most of it. It's best that way really -

Andy maintaining control despite the fact she's under him. Her shoulders and spine are definitely taking a smashing for it, all the hard, rough surface surrounding her that has no traction –

In fact, the only traction Andy has is..._Sam -_

But the way he feels inside of her and giving in to her is worth every sharp jab of pain that will no doubt end in a bruise.

* * *

Andy briefly considers whether maybe she should take up pole-dancing instead of yoga as a weekly routine after they're five minutes in. Every one of her muscles is working overtime, as though it's the top of Everest she's got in her sights.

"Christ. Andy. Sweetheart." Sam pants at her with a couple of messy thrusts as Andy pulls and pushes her way through the whole thing harder and faster, not wanting to give in. "Gonna…"

Andy yanks at Sam's hair and pulls his face up before he can finish the sentence. The clear direction she decides to give him is that they're going to watch one another through this.

She lets go only when he starts to, watches that tell of his…the way his mouth falls slack just the barest amount as his eyes go real wide.

Andy keeps riding him as best as she can as she comes, every part of her body flailing and zapping as she takes him all in.

* * *

When it's finally over, things are a _mess_.

It looks like they might've fallen out of one another before it was over, leaving both of them sliding in a mixture of their various bodily fluids, sweat and -

Still –

Sam kisses as much of Andy as he can; these fond, sweet series of delicate things that get her fluttering all over again.

"You are something _else_," he tells her quietly…an entirely pleased and happy thing going on with his voice. It's as relaxed and at ease as she's heard from him in the past 24 hours, and it makes Andy beam.

She nudges a shoulder at him and laughs brightly along with him. "Bet you'll never whinge 'bout my yoga classes again."

Andy keeps on smiling like a fool when she feels Sam's grin make a dent in her skin, that warm mouth of his continuing on with hot kisses over and over again.

Eventually, he works his way off her enough to kick back at the door. Which –

Does not open.

Does not budge an inch.

* * *

Both their mouths fall all the way slack, their eyes mildly panicked as Sam rolls himself into an upright position, his face in his hands.

"What." Andy demands, making a grab for their duty belts on the floor….well, hers at least. She glares at Sam, realizing what's actually happened. She's heard of this happening before –

(Diaz and Epstein giggling at The Penny about the stories they've overheard from senior officers…

Colleagues getting stuck in the backseats of cruisers because the doors can only be opened from the outside, not from within.)

"We're gonna need back-up," is all Sam says, resigned.

Andy's head nearly spins off her shoulders, as she looks left and right and left again. She guesses it's a foregone conclusion that they won't be able to get through the cage and into the front…that they have _nothing_ at their disposal that can unlock the damn door. "Thought you had your feet on it," she snaps – a firey blush already making its way up her body.

Sam finally gets his head out of his hands, and starts chewing the inside of his cheek. "_Had_ being the operative word. Clearly."

And okay. Any sexiness that was rocking their world just moments ago?

Is now well past gone.

They both go about doing up uniforms and buckles and everything else that might make them look at least part the way decent –

Although not in anybody's vocabulary or world does Andy know how they're going to explain the mess that is the back seat (or front of their pants).

* * *

They squabble for a good few minutes, their testiness regarding other matters coming to the fore as well.

(How Sam never has OJ at his place, and how Andy hogs the bed -being the most serious of the two).

They also argue about who the hell they're going to call to get them out of this situation, and back on patrol. Sam wants to call Ollie, but there is no way on God's earth that Andy will let that gossip start up. And Sam won't let Andy call Trace because of Jerry…who apparently already has way too much dirt on Sam.

(Andy totally, totally makes a mental note of that particular fact.)

Eventually, Andy convinces Sam to let her call Gail. She's got a whole bunch of stuff on her blonde friend that she's used once or twice before to make her keep her mouth shut.

(The Peck family name does not need spoiling with leaks on Gail's wild and woolly Academy Days.)

* * *

The icy blonde turns up some 20 minutes after the distress call is made; her and Ollie were stuck in booking apparently…and Gail had to use every excuse to stop him from coming out on the call.

She stands outside Andy's side of the cruiser; wicked eyebrows arched all over the place. There's a cheshire grin hiding unsuccessfully also. So much so that it's baring her teeth.

She stands and stares for a solid two minutes, a shrug eventually working its way onto her shoulders.

When she finally opens a door for them, she screws up her nose.

She doesn't say anything though.

Not a single word.

Well. Not until Sam and Andy raise matching eyebrows in return.

It's then that Gail clucks her tongue once and swings a pointy finger into the air.

"Never again," she says drolly. "You hear me? Never again."

She turns on her heel and stomps back toward her patrol car, shaking her head with a series of scoffs and mutterings that neither Sam or Andy can hear.

When Peck drives off, she screeches the tyres and never looks back.

* * *

Andy and Sam stare into the backseat and deliberate the logistics of hosing the thing down.

When they're done with that point of discussion, they take their original positions in the front of the car. Sam starts it up and looks at Andy briefly, a cute smirk on his face. "You good to go?"

Andy coughs out a bright and stupidly happy-awkward sort of laugh. "With you? Always."


	15. Sitting Drinking, Just a Happy Fool

_A/N: Just a quickie and a bit of fun. ALL SMUT, but always some feelings there ;). This one was initially prompted by PMullally. I started it way, way back but kept getting distracted by other shenanigans. (ahem)..Takes place **3.3** shortly after we see Sam go all goofy looking as he watches McNally go get some icecream for them._

**Disclaimer: I don't own Rookie Blue**

* * *

What McNally brings back are two single cones, each with a double scoop of colors that Sam has no idea what the hell flavors they are. A veritable banquet of the preservatives McNally prefers, probably.

A bright pink glob is melting into the purple mush it sits atop precariously. Andy keeps that one for herself, hands Sam the one that has yellow being pounded by green.

McNally is proud of herself when she makes the announcement: "Closest I could get to pi-sta-ch-i-o." She curls the corner of her mouth as she says it, A++ grade of a smartass smirk.

Sam watches on as that wet, pink tongue of hers pushes it's way between some perfect, white teeth. She uses the flat of it to lick a broad circle around the sloppy candy colored mess she's got in her hand.

Sam swallows.

The sweat over his brow has him convinced the relative humidity just went through the roof of the truck.

On closer inspection of the corner of Andy's mouth, he rolls his eyes. Then stares at the suspicious streak on the dairy that's about to drip down _his_ cone. More often than not, Sam can't believe he wants to spend the rest of his life with this girl, twelve years old she is a lot of the time. He gives her some not so subtle eyebrow. "You tasted some of mine?"

Andy turns her head, grins. "What! Thought you'd be happy to share." She points a finger at what he's holding. "Better hurry up, Sam...s'gonna melt."

She dips her index finger into the bottom edge of the yellow, strokes all the way upward until the green gets a stripe. She directs what's left on her finger toward her mouth, and _sucks_.

Sam shakes his head, more to clear his brain than anything. He crooks his fingers at the buttons on the door, cranks the windows up and turns the air on full blast. Eventually, he figures if he's not going to eat this thing – she will.

He gets his tongue on the edge of his ice cream cone and works his way up slowly, brain blitzing a little with how cold the stuff is.

As he licks, Sam desperately tries to come to terms with the fact he actually _likes_ the flavors McNally has picked. Fake lime and fake banana, is how Sam might describe them to anyone who bothered to ask. He really, _really_ likes them for godsake –

Sam should probably make an appointment to have a chat with the department shrink, is what he's thinking here.

"Want one of my gummy bears?" Andy asks him, all breathy and teasing - but completely serious too.

Sam has heard the tone before. Several times, actually - more than a few of those she was down on her knees.

Sam has to do a double take of McNally because of that. Because of other things too. When he looks over her way, her lips are a candescent shade of pink. Her smile is even bigger than before, a clown that tried to do her own makeup without a mirror in sight.

McNally holds up one of those tiny bear-shaped jubes she's taken to moulding into a single mass in Sam's console. Only this one appears to have migrated out of the icecream she's devoured.

Sam screws up his nose and eyes the offending item, then gives McNally a stare. He opens his mouth to tease her about health care cards, sugar highs and dental work, but nothing comes out.

The thing is: Sam's heart has been beating a staccato ever since McNally made him stop the truck -

(For longer, actually; a little too long for Sam's liking if he's being completely honest with himself. McNally's foot tapping, icecream eating, summer smile is infectious. Sam likes the way she looks so fucking enamoured and happy whenever he humors her 'needs':

_'Sam, we have to stop for icecream; Sam, we need to eat cheese for dinner tonight; Sam. we've got to watch The Notebook right now'...twice; Sam, let me…okay; C'mon, Sam...it'll be fun...'_)

Sam tries to tamp down a grin that's threatening to take over his face. He really is too cool for this shit. "Sure," he says, casual as he can but with one eyebrow up. "Why not?"

McNally smiles even bigger than before, that high beam thing she always brings out right before they have sex -

Sam blinks. Swallows again.

"Open up," Andy smirks, her eyebrows arced in a shape that looks like it might poke at her brain.

Thank god Sam has got the truck still pulled over to the side of the road. The look alone on McNally's face is enough to cause a multi car pile-up -

Her eyes are focused on his mouth; reminiscent of the determination she has at the shooting range. Her mouth stays part the way open, the tip of her tongue nudging right at the corner like she's concentrating real hard.

McNally's index finger and thumb are pinched together, squeezing the stomach of the bear by the looks of it. She aeroplanes it toward him, swoops and circles included.

Sam briefly pictures Andy feeding their future kids. Shuts the thought down by reminding himself he never wanted any of that.

She gets the thing to his mouth finally, places it on his tongue -

Leaves her two fingers there.

Sam traps his mouth shut on reflex. He swallows the bear whole, and then sucks.

McNally's fingers are sticky and sweet. Freezing cold too. Pretty much they're always like this - her with her penchant for cocktails of grease and sugar and absolute crap.

Sam closes his eyes and sucks some more.

When he gets them open again, McNally is leaned all the way over and is right up in his face. She's watching him closely, wide eyes blinking and a blush on her cheeks.

(She likes it when Sam has his mouth on her extremities - he found that out early on. Real early -

First time around when he got her boots off she more or less shoved a foot in his mouth.)

* * *

They sit frozen to their spots for minutes that feel like hours. The remnants of icecream drip down Sam's chin and hand as she continues to watch him carefully, shallow breaths right in his face. He's denying the fact that he's more than intrigued about what fake banana and fake lime taste like when they're mixed in with fake...pink and purple.

Apparently, McNally is not so interested in denying her curiosity. She leans the rest of the way in a half-body twist and suction caps her mouth to Sam's.

Between trying to save his ice cream from dropping and Andy's incessant mouth, Sam has his hands _full_.

Sam grins as she pulls off with a plop. He wants to see what she'll do if he tests her a little. They may be in broad daylight and public, but by the way she's clamoring to get on top of him, Sam guesses McNally is a good way worked up.

He is too. Still. Not gonna tell her that just yet -

He pokes the icecream up to her nose, puts a good dab on the end.

She has a reaction that is half-snort, quarter giggle, and a little bit of fury. "Saaaam." She wipes at the glob on her face. "Gonna get me all sticky and messy."

Sam's face splits with his laugh as she makes a grab for his wrist, climbing the rest of the way on to his lap.

"My guess is, you already are." He leans forward enough to nip under her jaw, gives himself away when he has to shift his lap to get her all the way on top.

She blinks down at him, this furious blush spanning the width of her face. She bites her lip and huffs a couple of times. She scowls _while _she's rubbing over the hard-on he's got. "You are-" she declares, heat in her voice.

"What, McNally?" Sam runs a hand down her side. "What am I?" He tucks his fingers under the hem of her singlet, rides his hand all the way up to get a good feel at her chest. He plucks at the skinny dark blue t-shirt bra he knows she's got on under there.

(Watched her get dressed this morning when they got out of the shower; she walked around naked in front of him for a good ten minutes before she told him what underwear to pass her and from which drawer –

Sam practically threw her on the bed and shoved himself inside of her before she could put the pretty things on.)

McNally goes non-verbal, starts flapping her hands around. As she does so, she knocks Sam's unfinished icecream right out of his hand.

The thing goes flying, lands milky side down fair on the passenger seat.

Andy shrieks as it happens, clearly knows she could be in trouble for this. She goes to climb off him, to go after it. "Shit. Shit. Sam. Sorry."

"You makin a mess of the truck, McNally. You will be." Sam uses his sternest voice, but he's teasing. He holds her firm on his lap, can't for the life of him get the thought of how wet she might be out of his head. Three times already in less than ten hours, _Christ_ -

(He is totally gone on this girl, can't fucking take his eyes off her most of the time. It's a real problem he's going to have to sort out.)

He bucks into her, slides his hand back down to yank the zip of her jeans.

"Sam. God. Hello. Public and daylight and we're police officers and –"

Sam shuts her up with a kiss.

It's one she likes too. Leans right into him and moans in his mouth like maybe she doesn't mind the prospect of someone walking past.

Sam takes the opportunity to slide his hand under the cotton panties, doesn't screw about with teasing her some more because –

_Jesus. _ They have to be at work in less than 15.

His fingers go straight for the spot he thinks she might like.

McNally perks up like a prairie dog. She hisses, but then shoves her hand down there too and presses his hand into her clit. "Um. Ugh. God. Shit. We can't. I can't. I'm not…not… comin' out here."

Sam watches on highly amused (and turned on) as she fights a losing battle, stuttering hips that buck her to and fro onto his hand.

"Yeah, you are." Sam has no fucking idea what he's going to do with himself, but he'll be damned if he's not going to make McNally lose it for him where he can see her like this.

He sinks a couple of fingers into her, keeps his thumb on her clit and rubs some hard, slow circles just how she likes.

She drops her weight forward to get her face into his again and gives Sam the filthiest kiss he's had in his life. Uses her whole tongue to lick into him and follows it up with some teeth. She gets a rhythm going too, sucks at his lips while she takes over what's going on down below. "God god god Sam we shouldn't …"

She pulls her face away for a second, takes some nervous glances at the empty street around them. Grips on his fingers like gangbusters when she sees a woman coming out of a house. "Shit." McNally hisses as she watches the stranger walk to her letterbox.

Sam hisses a little too, everything inside him hard and tangled and anxious all of a sudden, but not wanting to stop.

* * *

Things go a little desperate between Sam and Andy as she keeps fucking herself on to him. Her voice is a shaky mess, just a series of watery croaks. "Almost…almost…just – just – god…"

The woman at her mailbox looks up from her leterbox, squints at the truck –

Sam holds the back of Andy's head with his free hand, gets some fingers into her hair and whispers hard in her ear. "She's seen us…"

Andy comes hard. All over the top of his hand.

She shunts herself down as far as she can and squeezes with every muscle of her body. She makes some noise too, vibrates it all the way through Sam's neck as she hides her face there.

Her whole lower body keeps wrestling at his trying to wring the thing out.

"Sshhh, sweetheart. You're okay. It's okay." Sam pets at her hair and grits his teeth, his whole body set to go off with the way McNally is grinding friction and heat.

Sam keeps a watch on the woman, who is still watching on – a little perplexed probably. There's no way she can make out exactly what's going on, but she'd sure as hell have a bit of a clue.

Sam smiles against McNally's cheek as she comes down, babbling to him about how terrible he is but how that was so good. "She gone yet?" Andy says all cross and everything.

"Yeah." Sam watches as the stranger walks back into her house, one final look over her shoulder with a wry grin on her face.

Andy puts her thumbnail in her pretty mouth and nibbles. She's gone about a hundred shades of pink and still feels really warm.

She giggles after a while, looking around for something to wipe up the icecream spilled earlier. "We are hopeless, you know that?"

McNally is still on his hard lap as they wipe at the seat with some paper towels. Sam using the rest of the role to wipe both their hands.

"You're still hard," McNally informs Sam as she runs a hand over his face. She has this ridiculously wide eyed innocent look on her face as she says it, but there's something else lurking there.

Sam chokes out a laugh. "Yeah. And, uh. I don't think that's changin' anytime soon." (Three fucking times in less than ten hours, Sam has never wanted anything more…) "I'm gonna have to handle that problem at that dirty service station's bathrooms just up the road."

Andy bites her lip and blushes. She grins at him slowly, pretty face getting that dirty look that it gets when she has him right where she wants. She leans in again and kisses him, whispers on top of his mouth as she starts to make moves to get herself back on top of the passenger seat.

Her fingers go straight to the zip of his jeans. "Start up the truck," she tells him bossily, leaning further and further down, careful not to bump at the gears. She gets her mouth on top of his cock and sucks a little...and then a lot.

Sam pulls out from the curb as she licks at the underside, wonders how the hell he's going to keep the truck on the road.

* * *

_Fin._


	16. We go where nobody knows

_A/N: Well…this is rusty as all get out, but I just had to finish it off and put it up before season 4 officially starts. I haven't written a sex scene for a while, and this actually ended up being more not sex, than sex, so..._

_Sorry about that. (I figure having these two back on my screen on a weekly basis will get me in the right frame of mind again, lol)._

_Basically, way, way, way back I referred to something like this taking place in another chapter. I was then prompted to write that, and since then others have expressed they thought it was a good idea as well._

_The original reference was actually to an event earlier than this takes place, but hey, they did it more than once…so I decided to write the time shortly after Andy said her first 'I love you'. (Ie takes place around 3.8)._

_Also: I blame Ben Bass for at least one reference used in this fic ;)_

_Happy Rookie Blue Season 4 Premiere, people!_

* * *

**Disclaimers:**

**The restaurant mentioned takes its name from one in Toronto, but that's about it. Either way I hope you get the idea that this place is one classy joint.**

**I don't own Rookie Blue**

* * *

"Ooh, niiice," Traci purrs, eyes scanning Andy's form. "He gonna be able to get you out of that thing?"

The dress Andy's wearing _is_ kind of tight. No. Actually. It's really, really tight. Coupled with the fact the slinky black thing is tight in itself; it's a size down from what she'd normally wear. The only one they had left in the boutique.

Andy wanted it though, right or wrong. Only strapless number that she thinks she's rocked in her life. (She's normally all shoulders, but this manages to hold up her boobs in _exactly _the right place).

"Doesn't matter if he can't," Andy mutters her reply. Examines the view from the back.

She catches Traci's broad, dirty smirk in the mirror. "Oh yeah. Swarek's kink for 'having you' fully clothed. How could I forget?"

Andy laughs, tugging down the fabric that just climbed two inches up in the direction of her backside. "It's not..." she huffs, blushing at the thought of just how many ways Sam _has_ 'had' her. "We just get a little...impatient...sometimes-"

(He prefers her naked actually, takes her clothes off every chance that he gets...it's just...well...there have been several occasions where one or both couldn't wait...

And when it comes to bragging about adventures with Sam...Andy has to tell someone, and Traci generally gets the good fortune when it comes to that.)

"How's my hair?" Andy asks, pulling the length back. "Would it be better up?" She has no idea why she's so...nervous...about tonight's date with Sam, but she is. Anyone would think it's their first -

(A good few months, several outings and a whole bunch of sex later prove it's definitely not that.

It could have something to do with her recent confession. The big ILU that she started splashing about that time in his truck...

He definitely did not mind hearing it, even though he still hasn't said it back...

Not that she's too pissed about it. She told him it didn't matter after all. Besides. Sam is a man of _action_; he's always showing her….things about the way that he feels -

Also: Andy's pretty sure he's been about to _say_ it a couple of times. He ends up going to his default though:

"I...you're something else, McNally."

Probably one day she will figure out the right question to ask. Try understand _why_ he struggles to...talk...about stuff.)

Anyway, this particular date feels...formal... almost. He's taking her to some fancy joint way out of their league. Told her he wanted to treat her to something special 'just because'...

(Andy felt bad for being a little suspicious to start with. When she queried how the hell he got to the top of their waiting list he responded with the dimples -

She rolled her eyes).

Traci swills the rest of the beer she's got in her hand, quirks an eyebrow that suggests she's bemused Andy bothered to ask.

Andy rolls her eyes, knows exactly what is going through Traci's head. "He's not gonna be playing with my hair while we figure out what the hell the amuse bouche even is, Trace."

Traci clucks her tongue, wanders out in the direction of Andy's kitchen. "Wouldn't bet on it," she mutters over her shoulder. "My money is on him with his hands there …or your ass the whole time."

Andy pokes out her tongue to hide the smile. Likes the fact that outside of working hours Sam likes to touch her a lot. Likes the fact that handholding and hair fussing wasn't exclusive to JD.

She picks up her heels and follows the voice of her friend, eyes going wide when she spots the time...and her friend leaning into the fridge. "What're you doing?"

"Getting another beer," Traci says, holding up two.

"But he'll be here in, like. Five minutes," Andy hisses. Not that she really cares if Traci is still there when Sam arrives, her friend can let herself out...or leave at the same time...

It's just. Well. Who knows what Sam and Andy might want to do before they go out for the night -

"Good," Traci reports calmly, popping the lid off the beer. "Told Gail I'd report back on how much his eyes pop out."

Andy puts her hands on her hips and huffs. She already knows that once Traci and Gail have decided to be smart-asses nothing will budge them from their spot.

"God, Trace...this is meant to be a private and special moment...something for just me and Sam."

Traci takes a sip at her beer. Eyes Andy up and down. By all appearances, the new detective has been taking lessons from Peck. She grins over at Andy, this time showing some teeth. "Cramping your style am I, McNally? Geez. Remember all those times you slept on my couch? Consider this payment for rent."

Andy just stands in her spot, mouth and eyes open, shaking her head. "Fine," she snorts eventually. "But I hope Sam makes Jerry's life hell over this-"

Traci laughs. "I can hear it now," she waves the bottle of beer in her hand. "Jer...you need to have a word with Nash. She stopped me from getting my entree last night."

Both women bursts into giggles then, Andy trying to fall gently on the couch so she can make an attempt at getting her heels on -

Which is timely, because then there's a knock at the door.

Andy feels like a baby giraffe as she makes a gallant attempt to get to her feet. It's too late though, Traci has practically hurdled furniture in the race to the door.

"Nash," Andy hears Sam's voice drawl, not even a hint of surprise. "McNally pay you to answer her door?"

"Come in!" Traci half sing-songs, waving her hand all exaggerated. Andy has no idea what her friend is playing at; maybe she's just bored because every other person in her life is unavailable or away tonight.

Andy is up and about finally, teetering on her heels to make her way over to Sam.

He's brushed past Traci to meet her somewhere in the middle, but stops just short to ensure he gets the full view -

She can tell how hard he's fighting a grin; his teeth are practically gnawing his bottom lip into the ground. His eyebrows are up somewhere around the ceiling, and his eyes are bouncing all over the place -

Well. All over Andy that is. Judging by the expression on his face, Andy is pretty sure she's managed to pull off the look she set out.

He holds up an arm as he schools his features.

That's when Andy notices the flowers he's got in one hand.

(Before that, she was taking a good look at the rest. He definitely rocks tight, black, and button down. And it's just as well she's got plenty of experience when it comes to peeling off his pants -)

Gerberas: a host of colours. _His_ favourite because they remind him of her. "Crazy, happy things," he called them once.

Andy smiles big in Sam's direction, takes a couple of steps to close the distance. "For me?"

"Nash didn't seem to want 'em," he replies deadpan, hitching a thumb over his shoulder and handing the pretty things over to Andy.

"Ha-ha," she snorts, rolling her eyes at his apparently endless repertoire of funny man routines. She's got him worked out though, knows there's a bunch of soft stuff underneath all that dry. "Thankyou. They're beautiful," Andy whispers on his cheek as she kisses him.

"So are you," he murmurs back, catching one hand on her waist before she can step away to take the flowers to water. "You ready to go?"

Andy smiles, pulling her head back enough to get them face-to-face so she can reply right on his nose. "Yep. Let's get outta here, before mom over there changes her mind."

Sam runs a hand up her side, slow and steady over the curve from her hip to her waist. "Better not be a curfew."

Andy grins, keeping her voice at a whisper. "Meh. No one tells me what to do."

Sam grins back, runs the errant hand around to her ass and gives it a pinch. "We'll see about that."

Andy swallows, lets a hot reaction course it's way through all her parts. Has to take a moment, to get her brain back online -

"Turn around, kids." She hears Traci call out.

They do. In unison. Sam's arm steadying Andy as she sways on her heels. She leans into his side and smiles for the photo Traci takes on her phone.

(When Andy looks at it later, she'll blush at the way Sam has his eyes fixed on her.)

"I'll put these in water, and just grab my coat," Andy explains, signalling in various directions so Sam gets the hint.

He nods, gives her an easy smile and then turns his attention to Nash. "Plans for tonight?" He asks casually, leaning on the back of the couch.

Andy watches the two of them eye one another carefully as she shoves the flowers into her favourite vase.

Her boyfriend and best friend don't dislike one another, but they're definitely still sizing one another up; Andy knows for a fact that Sam didn't get along with Jerry's first wife.

"Beer, book, bed," Traci chirps, tilting the neck of her bottle in the direction of Sam. "Won't be waiting up for you guys, if that's what you're worried about."

Andy struts over to the chair that her coat's on, collects it off the back and flings it over her shoulders in a single swoop.

Sam lets out a dry laugh. "Enjoy your book, Nash."

Andy collects his hand and tugs; she's excited about dinner and doesn't want pleasantries between Sam and Traci holding them up.

"I'll let myself out," Traci cackles as Andy shoves Sam out the door.

* * *

"Sooooo, I've studied the menu and this is what I've come up with-" Andy declares as she struggles with getting her seatbelt on in the truck.

"You've studied-" Sam has an entirely bemused look on his face. "What about the specials? What if they've got something on their board that you want?"

Andy blinks. She really didn't consider that...got caught up in how good the pictures on their website looked. Huh. Andy looks back at Sam, kind of impressed. Sometimes she forgets how great it is that he's ...ad hoc.

"Good point," Andy concedes eventually, reaching a hand over to run up his thigh. She shrugs. "But at least I've equipped us with excellent back-up, right?"

The smile on Sam's face then turns Andy into a puddle of mush. They really seem to be hitting a groove lately-each recognizing the strengths they bring into the pair.

"You have," he mutters low, reaching across the console to plant a kiss on the lips. "Gonna give me the run down?" He murmurs before pulling away. "Let me know what I'm up against here?"

Andy recites the entrees and mains of the current menu of Sassafraz word for word; pauses only for a breath when she sees how far up Sam's eyebrows have gone -

"You a waitress in a past life, McNally?" He's being sarcastic. But. His face is more than impressed.

"Yes, as a matter of fact." Andy laughs, squeezes his knee. "I'll have you know that when I was college, I was working not one, but two fancy restaurant gigs."

"That so?" He grins out the windscreen, dark road finally lit up with traffic ahead. "You have a special uniform they made you wear?"

Andy shakes her head, still with the laughing. "Only if I wanted good tips. Took the hem of my skirt up a couple of inches at least."

He looks over briefly, gets his eyes on her legs. Gets his tongue in his cheek. "Yeah." He nods. "I woulda tipped."

She snorts, but giggles as well. Looks out the window as she confesses with as much cheek as she can: "money wouldn't have been what I wanted from you."

(She likes to flirt blatantly with him sometimes - catch him a little off guard. Likes the reaction she gets...the almost blush...)

Only this time he gives her a dose of her own medicine. Doesn't miss a beat when he looks over her way and grins. "Oh yeah? What _would _you have wanted?"

Andy tries to keep her features neutral, but there's a whole lot of internal gasping for air and brain scrambling going on. He wasn't ...he didn't...that's not...

Ugh. Sam Swarek is infuriating sometimes.

She huffs with a whole lot of bravado "I..." Keeps her mouth open even when nothing else is coming out... She recovers eventually though, gives him a _humph_; "probably to know why the hell you come into the restaurant with a different girl every week."

(Not that he says a whole bunch about his relationships prior, but he's said enough for Andy to know...his past is littered with a whole stack of non-serious and no strings attached).

Sam gets the damn tongue in his cheek again, but keeps his eyes averted now, focuses on the road instead. "Would you've asked me that before or after you dragged me away from my date?" He bites into his lip.

Andy sees red then. Sure, she kind of gets turned on with how cocky he can be, but. Two can play at this game. "Well, let's put it this way, Swarek: I would've wanted the answer before you put your hand down my pants."

Andy is concerned for about 10 seconds that Sam's going to run off the road. It turns out he was only changing lanes, but it was still pretty dramatic and all.

He laughs eventually. Gives Andy his best teasing wink. "And I probably woulda said being there was only ever an excuse to see you."

"Ugh, puke. Vomit. Snort." Andy tells him, rolling her eyes relentlessly. "That kinda crap work on all your previous girlfriends?"

Sam's face deadpans, although he does lick his lips. "This mean you_ don't_ want me to put my hand down your pants?"

And as soon as he says it, she's done for. A warm rush of everything finding it's way to the place in question. When it comes to on the spot _wanting_...God. Her thing for Sam is like nothing else. She doesn't know if it's his voice, or look, or memories...maybe it's the whole lot.

Still. Despite the sticky situation she's in, she's decided to make him work for it. She doesn't want to be the a-typical Swarek conquest. "Depends," she pouts.

"On?" he enquires, infuriatingly casual.

"Whether you bought me dinner first," she tells him coolly, her own eyes now focused on the tail-lights in front of them. "And if you shared your dessert."

There's no response from Sam while he finds a parking spot, although the 'zap' in the air has cranked its way over some kind of boiling point now.

He's out of the cabin and around her side before she even has a chance to undo her belt. Holds the door open for her, small smile on his face.

When she gets out, he steps right up into her space, practically lifts her backwards onto the truck as he shuts the door closed with his other hand.

He pulls her coat tight around her chest, keeps his hands scrunched up in fists around the fabric and then leans his face until it's less than inch away from her nose.

"'Cause I'm not a complete jerk," he starts up quiet and low. "Woulda picked up the tab for the girl you dragged me away from."

Andy nods and swallows and thinks that's fair enough. Sam's lips are pretty appealing at this point, and she can smell that subtle aftershave that he wears (which - she likes a whole lot).

"Then," he continues, barely a whisper now. "You and I woulda slipped out the back, told your boss you were done for the night..."

Okay. Andy is feeling all sorts of even more worked up than she was before because of Sam's heated gaze. She lets a small breath out, tries to contain the sigh.

Apparently Sam is not done with the story though. In fact, now he's got his lips right near her ear. He's being a really good boyfriend actually; shielding her from the cool air with his whole body almost wrapped around hers...

"Taken you down the road to that diner you like so much...shouted you all the pie and cake you could eat..."

Andy giggles at the thought of it, wonders what Sam might've looked like nearly a decade ago. She bets he was in leather jackets even back then. Real bad boy image for sure. She would've totally fallen for him then too -

"Then. I woulda taken you home..."

Andy's legs feel like jelly now; it's real lucky Sam's holding her up. She wants to kiss him a lot...have his mouth on hers and let him finish the story there.

As she closes her eyes and puckers her lips in readiness though, there's a strong gust of air -

Sam just took a long step back - and out of her space.

She narrows her eyes right after she opens them; he's standing there with that irritatingly deadpan faux serious look on his face -

He nods once in the affirmative. "Given you a peck on the cheek. Wished you goodnight..."

Andy scowls, jabs at his chest with her clutch. Still, when the disappointment has worn off...she can't help but laugh.

Sam smiles; pleased with himself (and her reaction most likely). He holds out his hand, reaching for hers. "C'mon, McNally. Lets go see what's on the menu tonight."

She responds by hooking her fingers into his, squeezes into his palms and takes an extra stride to catch up.

* * *

"Sammy!" Andy hears a loud voice bellow from behind just as the door to the restaurant is held open for them.

Sam turns in the direction of Andy, so much so that he winds her arm around his waist, has them facing opposite ways. Eventually she manages to untangle them, keeps herself close in so the heat between them doesn't evaporate.

Sam is grinning at the man walking towards them, free hand held out to greet whomever it is. "Guess it's some sort of good sign that the owner eats here."

The man laughs freely, pats a hand to Sam's shoulder and then gives Andy a smile. "McNally, right?" He holds his hand in the direction of Andy.

Andy smiles brightly, feels a blush color her cheeks. She's got to admit, she kind of likes the thought of Sam telling his friends about her. Still. This is a classy restaurant, maybe the guy just looked up names…maybe Sam had it booked under them both for some reason…

She shakes the man's hand with her iron grip, hopes like hell that Sam will give her a hint –

"Andy…meet Marco…Marco…Andy…" Sam gestures between the pair.

Marco grins, nods. "Nice to meet you, Andy…but whatever this guy might happen to say about me over the course of the rest of your life…don't believe him, okay?"

Andy lets out a laugh. Marco looks around the same age as Sam. He's about the same height as Sam too, a little more…meat on him though. His face is real warm, friendly…similar devilish twinkle in his eye to what Sam has sometimes.

"Well. I'll reserve any judgement until I hear both sides of things," she assures, letting go of Marco's hand to reach up and pat at Sam's chest.

Marco winks back at her, gestures them through the door and toward the maître d. "I look forward to that…"

"You didn't let me take this spot just so you could gate-crash my date did you, buddy?" Sam asks, tugging Andy until she's almost crushed into his side again.

Marco laughs. "I wish…unfortunately, I'm on duty at home tonight with the kids. Just dropped by here quickly to see how things were."

"How is the brood?" Sam asks, casual like he actually knows what the answer might be.

Marco grins. "Growing by the minute…still better behaved than we ever were."

Andy's ears perk up a little more. She's now super-intrigued. She wouldn't mind getting to know Marco better…wouldn't mind getting to know Sam better, come to think of it.

Sam shakes his head, keeps a small smile on his face. "No idea what you're talkin' about."

"Uh huh," Marco replies, nodding, winking at Andy again. "You two should come join us for dinner one night…" He keeps looking at Andy. "Anna would love to meet _you_. We can tell you a bunch of stories about this guy and his dubious past."

Andy laughs, decides she likes Sam's friend a whole lot. "That'd be great…" Doesn't miss the way Sam chews his lip.

"Yeah…sounds great, buddy…we'll, uh. Sort something out." He lets go of Andy to man-hug Marco. "Give 'em my love."

As Marco bids them his goodbyes and wanders off in the direction of what Andy assumes is the kitchen, she keeps a close eye on Sam's face. He's definitely not looking_ unhappy_ about bumping into his friend, but he does look a little nervous about future double dates. "We don't have to…" she says quietly, as they follow the waiter to their table.

Sam pauses before they get there, squeezes her hand. He looks at her for a few moments, finally gives her a smile. "No…I mean…I think…" he clears his throat. "It'd be great."

"Great," Andy echoes softly, smiling and trying to keep things casual. "Now can we eat?"

* * *

Andy doesn't even bother to look at the menu because she already knows it inside and out. She is kept busy listening carefully to the specials though. Sam was right in telling her to keep her options open, everything sounds so…good.

"Well?" Sam looks her way, eyebrows up. "What's it gonna be, McNally?"

Andy chews into her bottom lip, completely indecisive. She had it all planned out before this whole 'specials' dilemma…now…yeah; she just can't make up her mind. She kind of wants a taste of it all. She shrugs, looking at Sam a little helplessly.

Instead of rolling his eyes like she expects him to, Sam surprises her with a friendly grin. "All the good candy, huh?" He gives her some eyebrow, before looking up at the waiter. "Marco still do the degustation for VIP's?"

The waiter smiles politely at Sam. "Would you like the matching wines with that, Sir?"

Andy's own smile grows exponentially when Sam answers with a grin and a "Yes, please."

* * *

After a brief interlude of debating the pronunciation of 'degustation' (she says 'dee', he says 'deh'), Andy decides to turn the conversation to matters of greater interest:

"You, uh. Known Marco for a while, huh?"

As soon as she asks it, she tuckers into the first tasting, keeps her eyes on the food and wine so as to alleviate any pressure Sam might feel.

"A _while_," he replies, fairly casual, but ushering the waiter to replace the half a jug of water he just swilled.

"Like. Since you were boys?" Andy continues, her eyes popping at the delicate lobster dish that's just been served.

She can see Sam's grin in her peripheral vision though, then the way he swishes his wine. "Yeah, McNally. Whilst Marco and I were playing cops and robbers in the playground, you were probably still in the crib."

Andy does the math. Figures she's got it worked out. Decides to keep it light and easy, tease him a bit. "Oh, so you actually _did_ go to school?"

Sam leans back in his chair and plants a crooked smirk on his face. "Only the times I wasn't expelled."

She laughs a little, pokes out her tongue. Decides to be a patient woman with the information extraction she still wants to do. "Can just see your report cards now," she sighs before taking a sip of the fancy French white they're on. "Sammy would be a great student if he'd just pay attention in class."

He takes a sip of his own wine, puts the glass down carefully and then leans in her direction a little. "I paid attention, McNally. Good listener, in fact. Just didn't like answering questions…" he says, a little more pointed. "Guess I was shy."

Andy feels some more heat run through her, memories of moments past. "Hmm…" She tries to distract herself with putting the spotlight back onto Sam. "Wouldn't have taken you for shy…"

Sam grins and winks. "Grew out of it by the time I got through my teens."

Andy sucks a little at the piece of lemon that was on her last plate. She's on a roll, so she's going to keep probing. "What. You join drama club? Build some self-confidence there?"

"You know it," he says, open mouthed smile as he nods at the waiter who's just served up something that looks like the best (and smallest portions) of pork belly Andy's ever seen in her life. "It's where all the girls hung out, so…"

Andy puts her fork down, frowns at the pig on her plate. She's not really sure that she wants to know about every conquest of Sam's. She's intrigued, but. Yeah. Notions of his popularity with the female population are a little much for her to swallow at times.

"What roles did you play?" She changes topic slightly, figures she can always keep probing him about girlfriends at some other point.

Sam's smile is a little more hidden when she asks that. Still, he's looking at her pretty fondly. His eyes are soft and warm. "Couldn't commit to learning the lines, helped with the set building instead." It's hard to tell if there was going to be another part to his answer because the second he says it the waiter is there and serving more wine.

"Always been good with tools, huh?" Andy smirks, imagining teenage Sam with hammers and nails.

He laughs a little, watches Andy as she downs the delicious chunk of beef that's now on her plate. She chews the meat as politely as she can, does her best not to moan at the flavors. Sam smiles small and keeps staring. "Always liked the thought of fixin' things I guess."

Andy stops chewing, her fork stilling mid-air en route to her mouth. Something in the way he said it—

Yeah. She can relate…nights and days of trying to figure out the solutions to problems that were bigger than any 12 year old should ever have to get their head around. She wonders out loud; "practical stuff is easier, huh?"

Sam nods. It looks to Andy like he knows she might've read between some lines. He bites on his lip, clears his throat and then smiles. "How 'bout you, McNally? My guess is teen Andy let her frustrations out on the field, not a stage."

She grins, peers down at her plate. He's not wrong there. Still – "I was in a musical once." She laughs a little at the memory. "Second grade. I played Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz." She peeks up at Sam, blushes at the look he's giving her. "We had a real Toto and everything. Damn dog kept peeing on my leg."

Sam laughs long and loud enough for the patrons at the table next to them to turn and stare for a while.

Andy can't contain her own smile; the sound of him laughing freely like that always manages to heat her up even more. "Shut up," she giggles. Shakes her head. "I thought it'd be fun…if I remember correctly, Claire even helped with costumes."

Sam's smile fades, turns into something more…careful. Still, there's the tiniest smirk. "Dog pee put a dampener on things?"

"Somethin' like that," Andy replies, groaning. "Oh…and my best friend didn't speak to me for the rest of the year. She wanted the part of Dorothy real bad…or at least that's what the Tin Man told me."

"Her loss," Sam sighs. Clears his throat. "Your friendship, I mean." He reaches across the table, takes one of her hands in his. "Wish I coulda seen you tap those red shoes, McNally…"

Andy raises an eyebrow in response. "I'm a terrible singer."

"I know," Sam laughs. "Well. Assuming your performance in the shower is anything to go by." He gives her a wink, runs a thumb over her knuckles. "But you're cute. So. I'd pay the price."

Andy snorts, tugs her hand out of his. "Show you cute."

Sam sticks his tongue in his cheek, raises an eyebrow of his own. "Any time."

* * *

"You gonna be able to fit in the dessert." Sam nods to the empty plate before her, the waiter's giving them a short break before the sweet stuff is served.

"If the rest of the meal is anything to go by," Andy says around her final mouthful. "There's no way I'm missin' out." She puts her napkin down on the table after wiping at her mouth, decides to tease Sam some more. "Deconstructed chocolate, caramel parfait is what I'm expecting…and…yeah… got a feeling it's going to be better than sex…"

The muscles of Sam's jaw twitch for a second, but then everything stills. And he stares. "That so?" he asks after a few moments, still with the staring. Just watches her coolly as she takes another swill of her wine –

Andy's had enough to drink to get her feeling more than a little bit warm and giddy…especially when Sam looks at her like…that.

She picks up her napkin, a little nervous all of a sudden. All the bravado and teasing nowhere to be found. "Yeah, um. I…well…ugh…" She dabs at the corner of her mouth, concerned she might be drooling a bit.

Sam licks his lips, picks up his glass and takes another casual swig. Keeps staring at her though. Doesn't take his eyes off her face for a second.

Andy needs to splash her face with water or something…anything…before this dessert gets served…or Sam's stare turns her into a puddle on the expensive carpet. She pushes her chair out enough to push herself into a standing position, keeps a close watch on Sam's face as she teeters a little and clears her throat. "I..um..just need to use the ladies."

Sam gives a minute nod. Grins with a flash of teeth, quick and gone. "Don't do a runner, McNally…You do…you'll miss out on this mind-blowing dessert."

Andy giggles nervously, wipes her hands down the front of her dress. She sucks in a deep breath and takes a few steps. She musters up enough courage to smooth a hand over his shoulder as she gets to Sam's side. She is not prepared to let him turn her into complete mush. "Not going far, Swarek." She pats at his arm, teases; "After all, I already know you're payin' the bill."

Before she can take her hand off him, he grabs at it, holds her still in the spot. Eyes her from the ground up, finally settling his gaze on her face. He pulls her fingers up to his lips, kisses gently. "Take your phone."

Andy tries to ignore the heat running all the way through her. She frowns, confused. She's not exactly sure what Sam thinks might happen to her in the bathroom of this place. "Wha…?"

"Text me if you're in there alone," Sam says simply, shrugging.

Andy snorts a little. Nervous and kind of excited…assuming she's reading the situation the right way. Still, she figures she should get him to clarify. Tells him very quietly with a raised eyebrow; "Been going to the bathroom all by myself as long as I can remember now…"

Sam gives her some more staring of the heated variety. "Not tonight," he tells her, his voice deep and low. "I've got a point to prove."

Andy feels her whole body blush. She tries to contain a giggle, looks over her shoulder to see if anyone is watching. "Are you serious?" she stutters, eyes on his again.

"You _don't_ want me to come in there? Show your dessert some competition." Sam's face is barely moving at all, except for his eyes. They're back to scanning Andy's face. Other parts of her too.

"I…" she swallows a lump in her throat. Looks around the restaurant again. It's not…they've done it in some public places before, but this joint…well. It's _classy_. _Really _classy.

Still. The thought of him touching her here… swanky guests and really good food on the other side of the door…it kind of outweighs any terrible consequences she can think of right now.

"I…" she takes one long sidestep toward where her clutch is, plucks at the thing with a death-grip and starts walking. Doesn't look back (except once when she looks back over her shoulder, shakes her head and grins as she spots Sam checking her out.)

* * *

When she gets into the bathroom she has a quick look around. Dim lighting, fancy, dark tiling, spectacular mirrors and light fittings, and even hand towels and candles for god's sake. It's like this place was made for –

She clears her throat; double checks that the four stalls are all 'open for business.' She wonders whether the biggest risk of interruption they face is from cleaners; everything is pristine…a far cry from the conveniences at the Penny…or that gas station they made out in that time –

She deliberates for an extra 30 seconds, a nervous wait while she's taking a pee, listening out for anyone else that might come in while she's otherwise engaged.

She stares at her phone while the toilet is flushing, wonders if he'll interpret her favourite emoticon the way that she wants. In the end she fires off a _10-25_; figures that's her safest bet…

She opens the door to the stall and peeks out, doesn't have to wait long…

Although, her heart jerks around when she thinks the other door opening may _not_ be Sam.

"God. Were you waiting outside the door," she hisses as he enters, casual as you please, taking a good look around.

"Nice lights," he remarks, finally getting his eyes back on Andy. He tilts his head as walks right up to her, puts a hand on her waist, nudges her inside one of the stalls. "Went to the men's. Figured you'd be a while."

Andy gets her hands on his belt the minute he locks the door behind them, fingers fumbling for the latch as she blows at her fringe. Normally, she can have him undone in under 20 seconds, she's counted it out before…has gone for a record each time.

Sam catches her by the wrists, shuffles her until her back hits the wall. "In a minute," he mutters, nipping along the edge of her jaw.

"We don't have a minute, Sam," she whines, a little panicked. "What's your buddy gonna say if we get sprung messing up his fancy bathroom, huh?"

Sam takes a half step back, leaves his fingers wrapped around her wrists and pins them against the hard surface as well. He takes some time to look her up and down, pays some close attention to her bare legs. "Yeah, well…he owes me a few favours, so I figure I've got free reign tonight."

Andy can't help but tilt her hips in the direction of his; she picked up on the fact he was half-hard already when he shoved her against the wall. Anyway, she wants to let it be known that she's more than ready herself. "Free reign…" she croaks out, mouth like a desert. "What does that even _mean_?"

His upper body remains at a distance from her, but he thrusts forward to pin her hips back to the wall. His eyes, which have kept on the move, start bouncing between her chest and her neck. "It means…" he murmurs, edging his face toward hers eventually. "I get to take a really close look at this dress you've got on…" He looks back down between them. "So, stay still for a second, okay?"

Andy does stop moving…barely. It's not the easiest task she's ever been given, considering how much she wants to hook her leg around him. She chews on her bottom lip a little, can't take her mind off how dark his eyes look from here.

He shifts around, gives them an inch more space on the lower half by moving his hips away. He also lets go of her hands –

Puts his fingers down near the hem of her dress; inadvertently brushes against some pretty sensitive skin.

Andy sucks in some air at the sensation; looks down to get the full effect of watching him tug the material up – a centimeter at a time.

"Yep," Sam huffs. "It's short."

Andy glances back up at him, feels even more turned on by the fact he's still gazing down, long, spiky eyelashes casting shadows over the rest of his face.

"Your legs make it look really good," he murmurs quietly, running both hands across her thighs and leaving one inside both.

Andy feels completely helpless, and fairly well at the point of desperate now, the way a couple of his knuckles just edged their way on top of her pants. She swallows, tries to find the right words. "Don't you mean it makes my legs look really good?"

Sam's gaze moves back up to her eyes. "Nope." The word is soft out of his mouth, breathy with the p almost sounding like it got lost on his tongue.

He shifts his body in closer to her then, gets them chest to chest, runs his left hand up the curve of her side and leaves it on her breast. His right hand moves as well – rubs over the wettest part of some lace.

"Sa…m" Andy's voice cracks completely, and she struggles to keep her eyes open. Already she wants to moan pretty loud.

Sam kisses her light on the mouth, the tip of his tongue barely wetting hers before he pulls away, whispers on her cheek. "What's your favourite dessert…ever?"

Andy's chest is heaving, every hard part of Sam's body pressed against hers and moving just enough for her to know how much of an effect all of this is having on him as well.

She attempts a snort, but it's futile. The last thing she can think about right now is food. "Seriously?" she groans, spreading her legs to give him some room.

Only then, it becomes apparent that Sam is completely serious…about something at least. He tucks a couple of fingers under the elastic of her underwear, rubs slow to mess her up a little bit more. "C'mon McNally," he nips at her jaw demandingly. "Favourite sweet thing. I wanna know. Must be good," he teases, stretching out his o's; "if it's better than sex."

Andy gasps as the tips of his fingers find her clit and press down. She wants to tease back, but she's got nothing. She'll give him all of his damn answers if he just gives her –

"F…udge," she pants. "God. Chocolate fudge probably damn it shit." She moves her hips in an attempt to get him to press harder, maybe make him put his whole hand in between –

Only then…there's a possibility she maybe about to go into shock because the door to the bathroom opens and slams shut and someone enters the room.

Sam doesn't waste any time in getting his mouth on hers and shutting her up with a wet kiss. Practically gives her a "ssh" right in her mouth. He bumps into her as close as he can.

Andy can feel his heart pick up some pace, but it's not nearly as heavy as the thumping that's coming out of _her_ chest right now. The position she's in is excruciating, all this pressure that can't be released. If she thought it would do any good, she would let out a sob.

The footsteps walk past their stall suspiciously slow…Andy's tempted to look down for the feet. About the only saving grace is that it is fairly dark in here, and the walls and doors to the stalls are long…they almost go right from the ground. Still – if anyone looks or listens close enough…they're going to _know_…

Andy carefully runs her hands up Sam's arms, puts them around his neck. Briefly considers wringing it. Only then he moves the fingers inside her pants some more, drags both until they're at a point where there's no turning back –

Andy pulls off his face and drops her jaw open. That person is still outside. They don't appear to be using another stall, rather just washing hands. Hell. For all Andy knows, maybe they _do _know and want to listen to…. this. She gapes at him a little longer, narrows her eyes when he smirks. He is _not_ –

Except he _is_.

He fucks his fingers inside of her, stills them when she starts to clench.

She growls at him silently, tugs at the collar of his shirt. She closes her eyes for a while, figures she needs a break from looking at his. She's just going to have to suck up the humiliation if they hear the outsider clear their throat on knock on the door.

Sam's breath is hard against her cheek, but neither of them is making any real sound. She swallows a little…waits for him give her...

More.

She'd move, but she can't. The way he's got her pressed up against everything leaves her between a rock and a hard place – figuratively, at least.

They hear some water running again outside. Seriously, this person is stalling for time…they have to _know_ –

Sam gets his mouth right up to her ear; whispers impossibly quiet. "Gonna take your pants…all the way off."

Andy shuts her eyes tighter, bites down on her lip.

And then nods rapidly, basically because she can't _wait_ anymore.

Sam slides his fingers out slowly, untangles his hand. They hear the tap shut off, and then silence as he edges his thumbs under the top elastic and inches the lacy fabric down.

He gives her a final kiss on the lips as he start to bend a little, is almost on his haunches before there is a click of high-heels, their visitor finally, finally, walking back out.

By the time he's down on his haunches, the door outside has creaked open and closed. Andy's still thinking they should hook it out a back exit after they're done in here…No doubt Marco won't mind if Sam pays the bill later. It's really only the promise of parfait that has her in two minds.

"Chocolate fudge, huh?" Sam's quiet voice sends a vibration through the length of her thigh, his mouth warm and damp against the inside. "It give you goosebumps as well?"

"Ugh" Andy groans, running a hand over the top of his head as he lifts one of her feet up, and then the other in order to strip her of her panties completely. She watches on as he puts the things in the pocket of his jacket, doubts she'll see them again…

Pretty much gets off on the thought that he'll stash them away in one of his drawers.

She fights against the feeling that's taking over though, tilts her head back, bumps it against the wall. He's never going to let her live this down. Will probably bring up her dessert related preference for the rest of their lives. "Sometimes…" she teases with a murmur. "'Specially if there's chocolate sauce on there too."

She can feel his grin against her, and then the blunt edge of his tongue searching her out. He pulls away a little right when she's starting to sort of relax into it –

"It make you wet too?"

She grips his head with both hands then, squeezes into his scalp with some fingertips. She guesses he's got her on that one. Andy likes her dessert, don't get her wrong…but she hasn't exactly lost herself over chocolate…well –

Except for that one time when Sam served it up.

She clears her throat a little, tries to remember where they are…and that they're kind of in a hurry. "Shut up," she mutters, pushing his head down further and spreading her legs as far apart as the tight dress allows.

"That's what I thought," his voice comes out muffled, and half the words are lost inside of her, so she only really guesses that's what he says.

His mouth is warm and gentle, but…incessant. He rarely gives in until he gets what he wants out of her when he's like this.

She scratches around the shells of his ears, finally opens her eyes to watch what he's doing to her.

Sam Swarek, down on his haunches, head between her legs…it's not a bad look. (She used to fantasize about it a bit…the reality is way hotter, but she probably won't admit that to him). She swallows another lump in her throat, thinks about how generous he is when it comes to sex…

How good he makes her feel _every single time_.

Before Sam, she enjoyed sex a lot…but now…it really is…

Well. Like him. It's…_something else._

She doesn't know if it's the attention, the care, the passion, the intensity…or all of the above. He just seems to 'get' her, seems to know what she needs, when she needs it…and also how to take what she _gives._

As his tongue works its way over her, and one of his thumbs presses down on her clit, she feels herself get to the edge.

She pushes down a little, lets him lick further inside.

She opens her mouth as he goes slower, firmer. "God…I…" the words come out hoarse.

She's going to tell him she loves him (again), will tell him screw the dessert –

They can go home and eat icecream, and then make love for the rest of the night.

"Yeah…I know…" he says around a breath, before moving his mouth back to where she's impossibly warm and wet.

She's not sure what he thinks she was going to say, but her thoughts are lost as his fingers and mouth start working harder, making her whole body react with a series of jerks.

She has to purse her lips hard together to not make too much of a sound. The feeling rips right from underneath the pit of her stomach and shoots all the way through to every extremity, leaves her weak…and wanting to just…

_Fall._

* * *

"C'mere," she instructs quietly, after a solid minute of regaining her breath. She tugs at his shoulders, smiles down when he looks up.

He works his way up slowly, pulls her dress down into position as he stands. He leans forward, gives her a nudge of the nose that's followed up by a deep and wet kiss.

She holds onto his elbow as he does it, loses herself in thoughts about how much…and how little he's revealed of himself tonight. But. They're getting they're slowly…and…they are having fun.

And. She just…loves him a lot. She will wait. She will keep talking. She will do whatever it takes…

Her hands slide back down to his belt. They probably shouldn't stay in here, but she wants to –

He catches her again. Gets his mouth on her ear. "We're gonna go out there…get your dessert…and then I'm taking you home…" He kisses at her lobe, bites a little too. "Where we can take our time."

Andy smirks a little, gets a hand on his jaw. She's feeling a little bare and naked, but the wine is still taking effect, she's feeling brave. "I say we skip dessert," she whispers, her smile growing. She gives him a nervous shrug. "You _are_ better than it."

Sam chokes out a laugh, surprised but by all appearances pretty happy with the compliment. "Check the coast is clear, McNally," he mutters. He licks his lips, smiles some more at her. "Let's go. It's time for me to get you all the way out of that dress."

* * *

_End._


End file.
